Era's End
by vOceanic
Summary: [Lemon]. At long last, the Institute of War is shutting its doors. Champions cope in whatever way they can. For Jayce, this means learning to love Noxus and all it has to offer. For Luxanna, it means letting go.
1. Chapter 1

_N.B. Dear Readers, _

_Hope this finds you well. This is essentially a long, romantic love-scene between Jayce & Erinae. The "good stuff" begins at pagebreak 7 and continues until the end. _

_(I'll warn you that Erinae is technically 14. But she's also half-tiger and, well, tigers age faster than humans. Right? Or something. Just pretend she's 16 if it truly bothers you). _

_What have I been up to? Oh, you know. 800 pages deep into my first OC novel. _

_I might add to this if you want. Thinking of Ezreal x Lux. _

_I miss you guys. _

_Regards,_

_vO_

* * *

><p>The dreams now always began the same: cold.<p>

Arctic blue-green stars whirling overhead, glittering in the frigid black. Bitter snow spattering his nose, his mouth.

Then hearing the Ice Witch's booming voice: _Ta- Kitan, Ezreal Lightbringer! The end of the Wheel! _His ears crackling in the wake of her laugh, like fizzing fireworks. _Hiss. _

Pulse pounding in his temples and wrists. Wanting to run. Can't. _My life's not my own. Has it ever been? _

Looking up from the moon-soaked tiger fur, at the kid he partially raised. The god. Seeing the shiny aura wink blue, gold, blue, gold —

_Red. _

_Silence! _A shout with deep bass to it. _Silence! Leave me — leave me alone! _

_That's not what you want, kid, _he shouts. The numbing wind shoves between his lips and crushes the words. _That's never what you wanted! _

No one hears him.

The burning beginning in his limbs, racing to his stomach. Dissolving him into white fragments, flinging him into the black. Like the snow.

_Not her. _

He looses a cry from the very bottom of his lungs but it doesn't matter. It's flying apart. All flying apart. No one in the desolate tundra is listening. No one is trying to listen. Not the Destroyer, not the Healer. Not the gods, not the Wheel —

_Silence! Leave me alone! Ta - Kitan! The Wheel bur — _

* * *

><p>In his bedroom in the Noxian palace, Jayce's eyes popped open. He had a moment of blind terror in the warm sunlight — the tiger wasn't there, her fur not where he expected, not under his grasping palm. Then he remembered she wouldn't be. She had morning practice.<p>

Today was her quarterly recital.

For pole dancing.

He settled down into his sweaty pillows with a shudder and a sigh. Quaking.

_It is alright to feel fear, _he imagined Soraka saying. They'd found her wandering the halls of the Noxian Palace, uncursed, some six months after — well. The fight in the Hereafter. _But you are a Piltover Egghead, or were one at some point. Let us use physical evidence to call your mind back to your body. _

So Jayce checked to make sure he was still there. Intact. Could wiggle his toes — check. Could feel his hardening abs pound, aching and sore from his workout. Check. The pain was worth Erinae's admiration.

Speaking of Erinae — she'd left him three tiny links of sausage and two pieces of heart-shaped toast. No muffins though. Naturally.

He could wiggle his fingers. Could suck mild spring air in through his nostrils. Check.

He saw the note sitting by the plate and swung out of bed with a groan. _Still alive. I guess. _

He wanted to leave the snow behind. Leave Ta - Kitan. Erin helped.

_Dear Professor Fuckass, _he read, and snorted. The curvy handwriting was in deep purple glitter pen, on Royal Noxian stationary. _You're out like a dead log, so here's the scoop. Tall Guy paid for us four a carriage to and from _Poles: A High-Class Dance Studio. _He also decided to buy the entire school fancy dinner at the Ionian Fire-Grill. Did I ask him to? Hell no. So don't blame me for it or I'll eat your feet. Loser. _

_Love, _

_Your Princess XOXOXOXO_

Jayce groaned again and covered his eyes. General Demetrius Falin, the wealthiest man in Noxus, was well-known for spoiling his friends. But taking an entire class of teenage pole dancers to dinner?

_Sir Jayce, my reputation is already shot, so to speak, _Jayce imagined Demetrius saying mildly. _As is yours. Making a few more little girls happy in the world shouldn't kill us. _

_He's right. _Jayce frowned down at the letter. Like the Wheel burning, he didn't want to think of what he meant.

How old was Erin now? Fourteen?

Didn't matter.

Besides. The pole dancing was, unsurprisingly, her idea.

He wolfed the sausage and toast, showered, shaved, plucked his eyebrows, and shrugged on a green casually dressy shirt, his go-to outfit in Noxus. Not too refined. Not too relaxed. Just enough class to make Erin's eyes sparkle.

Yeah. Any hope of General Demetrius Falin's redemption — not that he was looking for it — had gone straight out the window three days ago. He'd finally married his 19-year-old Willow-Dove and resurrected Noxian war hero Caelyn.

The nuptial was complete with foaming wolf-shaped fountains, ruby studded invitations, blue rose wreaths on the street lamps. Oh, and a carriage pulled by six huge black horses. All of Noxus had turned out and roared approval when the General planted a gentle kiss on the shaky, shivery fire-fox-demon sorcerer before the tallest cathedral, _Ryland Daen. _

At the quiet post-party, Erinae had patted the dove feathers stuck in her headband, then kicked Jayce's ankle and whispered _If you do any of this shit for me, I'm gonna rip your balls off. _Jayce had choked on his rare steak.

_I told Master not to, _Caelyn had murmured. The scarred hand holding the wine glass trembled, swayed. _He didn't listen. His p - prerogative, of course. _

_True. _Demetrius had nuzzled Caelyn's temple. _But, dearheart, now you've got no reason to question or worry about my adoration of you. _

_Or Noxus', for that matter, _King Ryland had added, and smiled when Caelyn blushed.

In the present, Jayce nodded to Lux and Katarina as he passed them and climbed down two sets of stairs. There was one final ball tomorrow for the wedding celebration. Then, hopefully, peace. Or as much peace as there could be in Noxus.

"Sir, l - look!" Jayce heard Caelyn's voice before he saw him.

"I see her, love." Demetrius was amused.

"But l - l - look! She's like a miniature princess!"

Jayce opened the door and paused.

A handsome, black-haired man in a dark suit leaned back against an enormous orange tiger, who was draped across the back of a priceless crimson couch. He twirled a silver pen between his fingers. It caught the colored light from the ocean-tinted window above him.

And scraggly Caelyn stood before him, holding a slightly shorter girl under the armpits. One of the Lightbringer kids. Morning Glory.

She did look like a miniature Luxanna, but with wild green eyes and white-gold hair. She spent most of her time as a white fawn. Currently, she hung from Caelyn's scarred hands as a girl, limp as a cat.

"She is indeed most regal, but you should likely unhand her."

Caelyn ignored Demetrius and whispered into her hair. "I c - can be your knight errant, even going so far as to fend off the evil cooks, should you desire more dessert. Your beauty shines as brightly as your mother's."

Demetrius sighed. "Your helpless crush on Luxanna is something I cannot understand."

"She's a princess," Caelyn sniffed. "And every knight must idolize one." The three years dead had left Caelyn slightly more addled than before, but Demetrius didn't mind.

"You know, I really worry about him sometimes," Jayce said. They all looked up.

_Fuckboy! _The tiger pounced on him, shoving him against the wall. The long black whiskers tickled his cheeks — Erinae's forehead brushed his elbow in human form, but she could clap heavy clawed paws over his shoulders, too. Before he could tell her not to, her prickly tongue scoured skin from his cheeks.

She was pumped.

"Rehearsal already over?"

_No! _The tiger licked his nose._ I'm just home for no reason, stupid!_

She was _really _pumped.

Jayce shifted. Her claws were digging into the back of his neck a little. "How long before —"

"— we depart to watch young women gyrate in ways they were never meant to?" Demetrius finished. He got to his feet with a wince. "Around ten minutes. Long enough to agonize over it and think about how I could be their father."

_Does that mean I can call you 'daddy'? _The tiger chuffed. Her laugh.

"Not a chance," Demetrius said cheerfully.

Caelyn was still whispering into the mini-Lux's hair. Morning Glory's eyes were widening. Caelyn's were darkening. "And you've no need to fear inappropriate advances, for I assure you I will snap their h - hands off their —"

"Caelyn." Demetrius flicked his gaze to him. Caelyn dropped her. Morning Glory turned to a white fawn and bounded away.

_I told you to let Deer Meat go like an hour ago, Foxboy. _Erinae looked over her shoulder at her best friend. Her black-furred ears twitched. _Why you treat her like a princess and not me?_

"Probably because you've got a pole-dancing recital, Erin." Jayce smiled, even after she roared into his face.

* * *

><p>He still remembered his initial disbelief when Erinae marched up to him about four months ago. He'd been in his boxers, sipping wine and working on Sigfield Transformations.<p>

Between him and Ezreal, Noxus was easily outstripping all of Piltover's "advances." It felt good, a sharp jab at the country that disowned the two of them.

Ezreal had taken to signing all his tech submissions to the Valoran Copyright Agency (VCA) with _For the Glory of King Ryland. _Jayce was thinking about it. Maybe next time.

Erinae'd been clutching a torn ad from a magazine and the wrist of Caelyn, who was shivering and cringing.

_I - I - I'm sorry I showed her. _

_Showed her what? _Jayce tried to sound gentle.

_Poles. _Erinae beamed. Jayce knew he was in trouble.

It was the name of the "best, highest-class pole-dancing studio in Noxus!" And yes, it offered classes for "11-13 & 14-16 year olds!"

He'd remembered he lived in Noxus now, and shook his head before helping her fill out the application.

In the present, he heard Demetrius chuckle to himself as they pulled up outside the studio. The windows were covered with svelte black screens to keep people from peeping in. Just like a strip club.

Jayce eyed the cluster of chattering pre-teens in sparkly scrunchies and tights. He sighed, though he tried not to.

Erin nudged him and whispered, "See that bitch with the red hair?"

"Me?" Caelyn asked quietly. Demetrius hid his smile.

"Not you. For once. That one." She bit her pinky nail, then pointed to a girl with a long sweeping curtain of dark red hair.

"Uh - huh," Jayce said into his hands.

"She's a total bitch. Real stuck up. Thinks she's the shit because she's got real parents. Most of the other girls are from Riveria's." Her voice was totally flat.

"You never told me that." Jayce's eyes widened. "Riveria? The guy who kept you —" _as a slave? _And not the lovey-dovey Willow-Dove kind of slave, either.

But per usual, Erin didn't give a fuck. She squared her shoulders. "Yeh. That's why the girls all look up to me. King Majesty Man Ryland his Holiness is shuttin' down the cat-houses —"

"So Riveria's moving into strip clubs. Pre-teen strip clubs. Because Ryland's leaving those legal. Because they're a big industry." Jayce closed his eyes. He was still learning to love Noxus, but…

"They're _lounges_," Erinae hissed.

"Uh - huh. Lounges."

Erinae flashed a sun-bright grin. "Well? Come on, dummy!"

"You're so mean to him," Jayce heard Caelyn murmur as they disembarked. "I cannot comprehend. I'd no sooner call Sir stupid than I would cut my own throat." The war hero's freckled features darkened. His eyelashes fluttered.

_Another off day, _Jayce thought with a sigh.

"Poor thing's just shaken from the wedding," Demetrius said to Jayce from the corner of his mouth. "Among other things."

_Huh. Don't blame him. Think we all are. _

"You've got to show Tall Guy who's boss, kid. Take it from me." Erin beamed and the other girls cheered and hugged her. Jayce saw crinkled vouchers for _Full Dinners at Ionian Fire Grill! _stuffed in their hairbands, their bags, their waistbands. Demetrius' doing.

Erinae winked and vanished inside, blowing a kiss behind her.

Jayce caught it but still felt melancholy. The sun was going down, painting everything yellow. He heard Caelyn mumble, "I'm certain we all know who's boss" into Demetrius Falin's sleeve. The black Freljordian diamonds on Caelyn's ring finger sparkled among his scars.

The three of them, too, went inside.

* * *

><p>Jayce envied Caelyn and Demetrius and didn't want to. It wasn't the money, fame or power. If anything, their pairing was even more looked down upon.<p>

But there was just such — safety to it. Despite Caelyn's long lapses into shivery silence, quiet crying fits every three days, deep cold depression, or distance — safety. Caelyn would always want Demetrius, in this world and every other.

Erinae was a tigress, a wildfire who sometimes didn't hear a single word Jayce said.

And she was getting older.

And that scared him.

_What if she grows out of me? Out of her Defender Man? _Jayce wondered. The thoughts often came at night while he watched the moon through the skylight in their room, watched the white ribbons of light slide across her black stripes.

She'd been pretty before, but now she was beautiful. Her lustrous gold hair was still growing, thick and lush, the color of an angelic halo. But the warm yellow eyes shining out from her ginger freckles were all devil. She knew it. Jayce knew it. Other men knew it, too.

The Generals knew. Jayce could tell by the way they stroked her golden hair, stroked her chin, called her a 'bright little thing.' _It's just our custom, Sir Jayce. Hard to forget she's not a Willow-Dove at times. _

The Willow-Doves. He'd seen them measuring her with hand gestures, making curves in the air. Chirruping in their secret language. Jayce knew just what they were doing. They could've been speaking fish-language backwards. Boys were boys. Demetrius had looked up from his book and snapped something. _L'av n'to. Ven'ar'vain l'east. _The boys had blushed, cringed away and murmured, _Sorry, sir. _

_What'd you say to them? _

_Hm? Oh. _Demetrius flushed. _Translated, it means 'there are more fish in the sea.'_

_Direct translation? _

'_There are many more stars bedecking the sky, if you but turn your eyes to the east and wait.' _

_Oh. _Jayce snorted. _Naturally. _

And never mind the way Ezreal had given Erinae a long, long look that left Jayce wanting to knock his teeth in. And Skylan blushed when Erinae crawled all over him. And Talon the assassin was wandering around with his slimy buddies, and —

Her tits and ass were blooming. She dragged Jayce's huge rough hand to them at least once a day for him to track the progress. _They're sore. What, you think I want you to touch me? As if. _

Sometimes she did it when he wasn't paying attention. So he'd look up from partition physics and realize he was kneading her firm, supple buttocks. Rubbing her while she worked through intermediate techmaturgy books of her own and Noxian news played at a mumble in the background.

A cry would build in the base of his throat. _I need you, _he longed to say. _I want and need you. I don't know what I'd do without your laugh, smile — that weird huffing noise you do when I tell you a long story and you're trying not to interrupt me with laughing. You leaving me the worst parts of breakfast if I wake up late. The way you sarcastically flutter your eyelashes when you want something. And the way you beat up Foxboy when you're on your period. I really need you._

But he couldn't say it. Couldn't even bring himself to think it to her. So he rubbed the tight flesh until they both slipped into passion or into sleep.

Both of them silently praying Ta - Kitan wouldn't visit them in their dreams. Enough was burning without the Wheel.

* * *

><p>Jayce settled into his seat among the other — <em>parents? <em>

He counted six gentlemen about his age wearing dark glasses and gave up. There were many more.

"This is sketchy as fuck," he whispered to Demetrius.

The General looked up from stroking Caelyn's throat and smiled. "Not entirely certain what that means, but I heartily agree."

One of the teachers — a hot woman with a frizzy pile of blonde hair — spotted Jayce and hurried over. "Are you with Erin the Riv?"

Jayce watched helplessly as the sunglasses men turned towards him, then murmured among themselves. The Defender wished the teacher had mistaken him from a parent. But the teacher knew better.

_Oh man. _"Aye. I mean, yes, I'm with her."

"Oh, goodie! She graduates top of the program tonight. I'm sure you're very proud." She reached out and tugged Jayce's ear. "She makes us all very proud."

"Ah. Thank you. I'm looking forward to it."

A smoky, sultry smile. And the woman was gone.

Jayce leaned back again and felt a stab of envy. Caelyn had his face buried meekly in Demetrius' shoulder. Demetrius traced his collarbone. _I would kill for Erinae to do that for me. Just once. Just sit there and let me love on her. Without biting me. Or calling me Professor Fuckass. _

Then he noticed that one nasty man in particular was staring him down. _Who the fuck do you think you are, buddy? _Jayce scowled back openly. The man was greasy, with thinning black hair and wrinkles all over his piggish face. His salmon lips were set in a displeased frown, and three gaudy rings flashed from his right hand.

His eyes traced Jayce's features, darted to General Demetrius Falin's, then turned towards the stage.

"Hmm. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see Riveria himself here," Demetrius mused, flipping mildly through his program. "I'd no idea he cared enough about his girls to show."

Jayce's jaw dropped. "That's him? Right there?"

"Oh, aye. I recognize him. Just as surely as he recognizes us."

_I'm sitting about ten feet away from the most infamous mafia man in all of Valoran, _Jayce thought. He was disgusted and awed. Then he remembered he was right beside the wealthiest man and the most famous Noxian war hero.

Yep.

Life was weird nowadays.

After Ta - Kitan. After the Wheel was supposed to burn.

The recital certainly didn't help. The first number had about twelve little girls on separate poles at once. According to the program, they were what, nine-years-old? Ten? Jayce didn't know whether to watch or not. They were very fit and put on a great show, even when one fell off the pole and smacked her face on the glittery ground. Another laughed so hard she did too.

Jayce heard a couple of the men chuckle. He felt his face burn with sympathy, even when the two fallen girls stood and beamed just as confidently as the rest of them. Laughing it off. _If you were one of Riveria's girls, you had to laugh it off. _Riveria was shaking his head in disappointment, jowls quivering, and clapping.

Erinae was part of the next group, 14-18. Jayce's fingers dug into his forearm. The intro song and steps were brief, Erin's golden glitter shorts vibrant. _There's my little girl, _he thought, and was almost sick to his stomach. He hid his eyes when the girls smacked each other's asses, bowed, and winked. The wolf-whistles hurt his ears.

_Oh, gods. I'm going to die. _

Caelyn startled him during the break between dances by brushing his shoulder.

"Worry not, Sir Jayce. I'll protect you from the present dangers."

Jayce glanced at Demetrius. The flash of sorrow there on the General's face felt like a stab to the gut. _Poor child's still mixed up. And that has nothing to do with the wedding. _

Jayce cleared his throat. "Thanks, kid."

"Aye. Very least I could do." A quiet purr started in his chest.

Another dance number. A more technical one to quiet classical music — Erinae on the center pole, slowly hefting herself parallel to the ground with one hand.

_That can't be real, _Jayce thought distantly. But it was. There was scattered applause from all assembled.

She maneuvered back, resting the pole between her thighs and wrists, gazing out at them. And froze.

_Riveria, _Jayce heard her think, exasperated. But that exasperation usually covered up uglier feelings. _Criminy. That fucknut slimy gecko-raccoon come clear out of hiding. Holy fucking umbrella bats. _

_Come on, kid. _Jayce's heart sank deeper. Erin's cheeks were beginning to burn a defiant pink. And her eyes — were they filling with tears? _Come on. Don't let him get you now. _

She swirled down the pole and vanished backstage with the rest of the giggling.

Jayce glanced at the mafioso. He was grinning, flicking a lighter open and closed.

_I'm gonna fuckin' kill him, _Jayce decided. He'd acquired the werecat accent long ago.

_You've got my full support should you decide to do so, Sir Jayce. _Caelyn Falin nodded.

_I meant — I meant metaphorically. _He heard Riveria say Erinae's name, savoring the syllables, and clenched his fists. _Maybe. _

"The next and final number is an original choreography from our finest student, one I'm sure many of you have heard of. It was a true honor to teach one of Noxus' most famous — or infamous — dancers." The teacher glanced at a notecard in her hand. Jayce had bitten his lip so hard it was bleeding. "Her natural talent and years of prior experience proved invaluable to learning."

_Years of prior experience? She never told me. Never told me anything. _

Riveria was looking his way again. As if Jayce were dust he wanted to brush off his shoulders. He murmured to one of the sunglasses men and leaned back, satisfied.

Demetrius cocked his head, listening. He frowned and tugged Jayce's sleeve.

" — Erin the Riv!"

Loud clapping. Shouts and whistles.

Jayce watched her stride down the walkway. His temples throbbed with every step she took

She was in shimmering blue, the light glancing off the sequins like the scales of a tropical fish. Her golden eyes were winged with black. The song dug sharp fangs into Jayce's heart and forced it to beat along.

Each movement — effortless. Fluid. Graceful. No wonder she wanted to pole dance. It looked like she was flying.

" — _I don't want to come back down, I don't want to touch the ground —_"

She spun towards the top, her eyes distant. Fixed on an imaginary star. Away from the leers.

_What did she think was going to happen when she took pole dancing lessons? _Jayce realized he was annoyed. Then realized that it didn't matter what she thought was going to happen. He should've stopped her. _If I want to be her Defender Man, I should act like it. _

" — _Hypnotic, taking over me…_"

The big band faded. She slipped down the pole. It squeaked. The lights faded and she hurried away.

They were giving her a standing ovation.

Jayce stood up alongside them. He felt hot pride and cold anger compete for space in his body. And possessiveness. And fear.

_Fear? _

Demetrius was tugging his sleeve again and pointing to the upper right corner of the studio, where a few of the sunglasses men were vanishing. Or more than a few.

_Yeah. Duh. That's the exit, Tall Guy, _Jayce thought before he could filter it. But Demetrius was used to his unfiltered thoughts.

_Oh, truly? _Demetrius nodded towards the upper left. _The sign over here says "Exit." The one over there reads "Backstage." Perhaps that's Exit in another language, hm? _The Tactician could be terribly sarcastic.

Jayce froze. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _He stumbled over someone's leg in the dark, taking long steps away. The cold was coming back.

_Ta - kitan, the Wheel burns, no one is listening. _

The hallway was long, dark and freezing.

"Hey! Let go o'her, y'dipshit!"

"Who the hell y'think y'are, fucknuts? Put her down!"

_They're like the Willow-Doves and Erinae mixed, _Jayce thought in wonder. A scuffle. A few loud girly screams. Then he heard a muffled wail, followed by a ground-shaking roar. Jayce's ears rang. Something shattered.

A hissing thought-voice: _You picked the wrong fucking girl to fuck with today you understand me you pieces of shit I'll eat your godsdamned feet for breakfast_

"Shoot her!" Jayce heard. He ran faster, grabbing for a Mercury Hammer that wasn't there. "Shoot her! Aim for the head! The head, Bonsley!" Another roar.

Jayce hurled himself into the dressing room. Erin the Tiger stood before the girls in her class, tail twitching, fangs bared. The black dart-guns looked too hard and sharp for the frilly, sparkly clothes lying everywhere. The makeup, the glittery stuffed animals.

"_Just fucking shoot!_" someone yelled.

No time to think.

Jayce shoved one of the sunglasses men into another, then flicked out with his fist and broke one's nose. That man fell to his knees, howling. Jayce kicked the legs out from under the next, picked him up and slung him into the mirrors. A tinkling crash. The Defender glanced to his right — the girls and the tiger both looked equally awe-struck.

Then four of them were coming for him. He took two hits to the face and heard Erinae roar.

_Or — no? I think that was me. _

Kneed one in the back. Took one down with a half-assed karate chop to the throat. One with an uppercut. The fourth tripped over himself. Jayce still kicked his ribs as he fell. He felt invincible. On fire. In a good way. _Not ta - kitan. _

Then Skeezy Gecko Man Riveria himself stood before him, crinkly fat lips half-open to say something dramatic, ugly suit rumpled.

Jayce decked him.

Hard.

Right on the jaw.

Riveria fell back, out cold. Not dead, though. Men like that never died. Riveria took air in through his mouth and let it out with a sound like a trombone.

Jayce stood, panting. Sweat poured down his body. The howling wind and the cold. _Ta - kitan! Ta - aikah Ta-mia tante! _He clutched his own chest and let the panic sweep over him like a choppy river. _I could've lost her. I could've lost her then and now. _No checking his body right now. It was frozen fire.

The little dancers exchanged glances. _Some pretty scary shit, watchin' a man break down like that. _For many of them, seeing Jayce panic was scarier than the tiger and the guns combined.

One of the guys was stirring. A little girl stepped forward and kicked him in the head. "Shut it, y'scurvy asshat."

The guy shut it.

Erinae was all girl again, in fluffy blue-gray tulle, standing on her tiptoes. Gaping at him. Mouth hanging open. "You — you fuckin' saved me."

That brought him back. The sight of her golden eyes shoved him back to consciousness. A hard but painless shove. The swirling snow went away again.

_Here's my chance. _Jayce beamed his best Defender smile and heard the dancers all sigh romantically. "No one hurts my little girl."

"That's the stupidest fucking thing you've ever said to me," Erinae breathed. "Wow."

Jayce was still smiling when the authorities showed up.

* * *

><p>"<em>Ta - kitan. I'm the Destroyer. I just vaporized part of the world." Ezreal's voice was flat. <em>

"_Hell yes you did. It was badass." Erinae's bright smile actually startled one out of Ezreal. "That was so fucking cool." _

_Jayce snorted. "Erin. I think the word you're looking for is 'mind-bogglingly terrifying.'" _

"_That's like three words. Are you stupid?" She punched Jayce in the stomach. He almost dropped the binoculars. "I bet you are." _

"_Gods above. It's like you fed her a sack of pure sugar." Graves shook the snow out of his hair and off his coat. "You always like this, girlie?" _

"_I'm pumped!" She ran past them laughing, then back, then forward, scampering through the snow. Jayce had to hide his smile. He always did._

* * *

><p>"No, no, Sir Jayce. I insist. Caelyn and I will be on our way." Demetrius Falin shooed Jayce into the carriage, then shot him a meaningful glance. <em>I'm well familiar with the look on your love's face. Best of luck. <em>

Caelyn laughed quietly. _Aye, that look. So painfully telling. _He waved to Erin as the carriage pulled away. Erin forgot to wave back.

_What look? _Jayce wondered. He was still confused by the kidnapping attempt and the surreal questioning that followed it.

The police coughed and shifted, nervously eying Caelyn and Riveria with equal fear. Caelyn kept whispering, _Master let me kill him there is an opportunity for great justice. _Demetrius steadily shook his head. Riveria hid behind three of his men, sputtering something in an accent so thick it hurt Jayce's ears.

And to top it off, Riveria was being charged with kidnapping an exotic animal. Not premeditated assault on a little girl. _Attempted theft. _

Jayce shook himself. _What look was Demetrius talking about? _

Then he saw it.

Erinae was watching him, long golden eyelashes fluttering every now and then. Her light pink lips were still smudged with rogue, her eyes smoky from eye shadow, from the explosive sobbing fit following her near-kidnap. After the danger was over, of course.

Now the color lingered in her freckled cheeks. The pink grew warmer when Jayce shifted to look at her. "Are you gonna be alright, kid?"

"Uh - huh." She clicked her tongue. Her blue-gray ballerina skirt was tattered, her silver stockings torn. But Jayce thought — it made her more appealing.

"You sure? Why the stare? Got something on my face?" Jayce realized she was making him nervous.

Erinae's gold eyes caught the light from the streetlamps. "You're — gosh."

_Gosh? _Jayce wondered.

"I mean, gosh, you know? Jayce, you're like — I dunno. You're like a real hero, or something."

"Oh." Jayce blushed, too. That hit his heart harder than all Piltover's thanks following the Viktor incident. Even the parade.

"All the other girls're gonna be so fuckin' jealous. Want a Defender Man of their own." Erin's words were cherry scented in the velvet dark.

"Oh yeah?" _I sound like an idiot. _Those golden eyes were mesmerizing.

"Mmm. Yeah." She leaned forward and kissed him. Her words were cherry. So were her little pink lips and tongue. Warm and sweet. She bit his bottom lip, then smooched his cheek. "I've got a — a thing for heroes, y'see?"

"I see. How very interesting," Jayce said snootily. She swatted him, but it was with clear affection. She cupped his hard jaw with a small hand and kissed him harder.

He stroked her tight bottom and helped her onto his lap. A warm weight against his thighs and stomach. He buried his hand beneath the rustling tulle, felt the tight knots in her muscles. Pole dancing was rough.

And he sighed as she settled against him, chilly nose tucked to his chin. He reflected on how nice it was — the warm dark carriage, the starry night sky outside. Him wanting her. More importantly, her wanting him.

He smoothed gold hair off her neck and felt her shiver. He pressed his lips to her ear. "You were great out there. Pole dancing and protecting those kids."

"You're just saying that."

"Erin." Her name — was it cherry flavored, too? Or spring flavored? He said it again. "Erin."

"What, silly?" She giggled and kissed him, then arched her back a little. She let his thumb travel to the inside of her thigh. Rest there. A hard heavy weight. She squirmed back into him, both of them adjusting until his erection pressed to her bottom.

He heard her purr lightly and blushed. He could never get her to purr.

"Heroes, y'know…" She yawned and drifted off. His thumb made its way to her crevice, waiting at the opening of it. Jayce realized he could feel how hot and wet she was, even through three layers of dancer's undergarments.

"You were saying?"

"They're really strong." She pressed herself to his thumb. It settled onto her sweet spot. Edged back and forth, working her tight, tight body apart beneath her clothes. She tilted her head back and smiled, that slow dreamy smile Jayce worshipped.

"Uh - huh?"

"And big." She laughed and slid her smooth dancer's body against his. The friction built inside him, his skin beginning to burn beneath the lake of cold sweat clinging to him. Her hair was messy and he had to smell like death. Neither of them cared. About that, at least.

She tried to pull his dick between her legs. He stifled a moan. _Erin. We're in public. _

_It's Noxus, darlin'._

_Darlin'? _The affectionate name warmed his chest after months of 'fuckass,' 'dipstick,' and 'Jayce, the Great and Oblivious.'

_Darlin'. Besides, we're almost there. _Ryland's palace was rising into the night.

He let Erin stroke his length through his dressy jeans a few times. She kneaded his shaft in a way that Jayce found uncomfortably businesslike.

He tugged her hand away. _I wanna do it the right way._

_Uh - oh. We got ourselves a Demacian. _The slow, hot tongue pressing his lips apart wasn't Demacian at all. _Right way, my ass. _

_So you know I love you. That's all I meant. _

He took a breath and watched her smudged face in the dark. He needed to see if her warm eyes would grow frosty or if her sexy smile would wilt. Or if she'd punch him.

But she didn't. She cocked her head. _Alright, good sir, if you say so, yes, quite. _She paused. _Do you think Tall Guy and Foxboy know we make fun of their accents? _

_I heard them making fun of ours yesterday. _

_What? No way! _Her eyes lit up. Jayce's heart melted. _I'mma beat Caelyn's foxy ass! _

_Erin. Come on. Me first. _

_Beat your ass first? _

_No, I —_ Jayce buried his face in his hands and groaned. She giggled. The carriage pulled to a stop and they disembarked into the cool, spring night.

How strange did life have to be for the Noxian castle to feel like home? Jayce didn't know, but the palace did. More than Piltover ever had.

They staggered past a few Generals drinking late night coffee, who nodded and smiled.

_They're telepathic. They know I'm about to fuck her. And they're totally fine with it. _Jayce shuddered. _The look. _It was the most innocent Erinae had ever looked, with wide soft eyes and flushed cheeks. She was clutching one of his hands with both of hers. _Come on, girl, you're killing me. _

_But you're a real hero._

_Oh, man._

He somehow got them to their third floor room. His cock was throbbing so hard his lower stomach hurt. He locked the door, tossed his clothes on the dining room chair and helped her from everything but her silvery stockings.

She stood up straight. The warm lamplight played across her round breasts, the smooth muscles of her stomach. "Jayce. I'm really turned on right now. Like, dying." He waited for her to add a string of swearwords and shivered when she didn't. She was looking at him expectantly. Her eyelashes fluttered. After he froze, she picked up his hand and nuzzled it.

"You're being weird. Really, really weird." _The look. _

"I thought you wanted me to be nice." A little inhuman trill. She leaned onto his chest and hugged him, brushing his skin with her lips. Her face was warm on his belly. "Right? That's all you ever think. _Wish Erin would call me something nice. Wish she'd let me love on her._"

"O - oh."

"Love me." Her voice was a whisper. Jayce longed to check his body, to see if he still existed or if he'd been transported into a fantasy of his. But all he could feel was his dick.

He swallowed hard and rubbed the space between her shoulders. It was often sore. She moaned softly. She was ready.

"Come on." He tugged her stockings off, then pulled her a little harder than he intended into the shower stall and shut it. The stars winked through the skylight overhead.

The first cascade of ice water struck her on the back. Startled her out of the weirdness a little.

Jayce watched her light pink nipples stiffen into tight points, her supple mouth fall open. Goosebumps stippled her skin. _Criminy. Thanks. I'm awake now._

_You are so welcome. _

The water was warming, as was the color in her body. He helped her rinse the makeup off. Her wild beauty was perfection.

_You're thinking weird shit again. _She paused. _I like it. Don't stop._

_You're really, really pretty. _

_And you, sir, have a magnificent cock. _She abruptly bent from the waist. Her gold hair clung tight to her flushed breast. Jayce wished for a mirrored shower, so he could see her taut ass spread-eagled, too. The thoughts vanished. His swollen head — the entire length — was jammed deep in her throat.

She wanted him. All of him.

He leaned forward into the hot water with a gasp. Warmth on his muscles. Hot liquid clinging to his lower parts. He moaned and she echoed it, then pulled away. Her face softened.

_Forgot Defender Man needs eased into it. _

She gazed up at him with golden eyes, her wet hair darkened to a summer sunset color. The hints of red were showing through. The hot steam rose around them. She nuzzled the large hand on her head and mouthed the head of his dick, trying to pleasure him. Her agile tongue slipped beneath its turgid curve. She suckled him.

_You taste good. _

Jayce was moaning too hard to respond. He massaged the back of her neck, then gasped again when her lips departed from him. His cock was lying between her two soapy, slick breasts. She grinned up at him.

_Come on. I'm trying to last for you. _

_I am fine, Sir Jayce, _she sniffed. Jayce heard her think in the back of his mind, _I wonder if Foxboy talks like I do in bed. Hmmmm. Opposites. _

_Erin, what the fuck. _

_Shhhh. _She slid his cock all the way up and flicked her tongue against the tip of it, then down to the base of it. Jayce's entire body tightened. The hot water. Her desire. Then up. Her pert tits were a tight hot canal, punctuated by her light pink tongue flicking at the end of him. _Just come already._

_But —_

_I want you to. I really, really want you to. _She squeezed her flesh around him, molded to him, took his head into her mouth and sucked hard. _Please? _

He fountained into her. The roar filled his ears, but in a good way. And the pain and tightness left his muscles, replaced by calm mountain coolness. Refreshing. He told her this.

"Jeez. You make it sound like you got blown by a pine tree."

"Alright, Erin. Fair enough." He laughed. "I — I love you."

"No need to hesitate." She dried her hair, her body. "I love you too."

"Really?"

"Yes, stupid." She eyed him. "Fine. Yes, darlin'."

That was what mattered. Ta - kitan or no.

* * *

><p><em>Jayce opened his eyes to find Erinae asleep on his chest, thumb squarely in her mouth. His first thought – <em>I hope she was eighteen_ – filled him with shame. _

_Erinae startled awake. The stared at each other until Erinae shook her damp hair and leapt away from him. _

"Sorry, I –"

"_It's fine." _

"_No, no. You look like my older brother." _

_Jayce blinked. Women had said he looked like a lot of things, from King Jarvan to the devil himself. Brother was a new one._

This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I should invest in some Weird-B-Gon.

_The thought almost made him snicker and would've - if everything hadn't been so weird. _

"_Oh. Well. What happened to him?"_

"_He joined the Demacian military and I never heard from again. I actually came to the League looking for him. Didn't count on freezing to death with Jarvan IV underneath a fishbowl." _

_She laughed. Jayce snorted at the idea of the prince in a fishbowl – _blub, blub, blub_ – then chuckled. Soon both of them were cackling. And they shouldn't've been. _

* * *

><p>Part of what Jayce loved about Erinae was how she moved so gracefully. Moved from lover to princess to friend.<p>

_That's the best advantage of loving one like them, _Demetrius Falin had once told him. Jayce didn't know if he meant half-animals, children or both. _Having a true friend. _

Jayce watched her nibble the gourmet crackers and cheese and flip through a techmaturgy textbook. Her eyes were drawn to Ezreal and Jayce's portrait, shaking hands at a conference.

Jayce cleared his throat. "Hey."

"Hmghphzt?"

"Tall Guy was saying something about — about a look on your face."

"Oh, _that._" She dusted the crumbs off her hands and set the snacks on her bedside table. "Yeh."

"Yeah?"

"In the animal kingdom," Erinae began in her snooty voice. "There are great big animals and tiny ones. Sometimes the tiny ones realize a big one is nearby and make necessary adjustments to their behavior."

"Ummm."

"And that said large animal has domain over us, whether through emotional fulfillment, feeding us, or sex." She snatched his hand and stuck it beneath her pajama shorts. "Like this. See?"

"I think so." His fingers brushed her shower-soft skin.

She shivered. "That tickles."

"Sorry."

"No you're not," she murmured, then gasped. Jayce felt himself grow hard again. She was snuggling nearer to him for warmth and letting his finger invade her body. It was welcome. Jayce gently traced circles around the hot center of her lust, reveling in how wet she was. Just his hand and she was soaked.

Her muscles tightened when he slipped a finger in her. He soothed her with whispers until she relaxed, then slipped another finger inside, working her apart.

He knew she'd let him do whatever he wanted. That was why her pleasure was of utmost importance.

She watched his face. "You always look so serious, Defender Man."

"You mean a lot to me. A lot." He kissed her and edged inside her slowly, softly. She was tight. Gods, always so tight. He never knew how she managed to let him in but she did. And she did most of the moving, to avoid either of them being hurt. Her body clenched and shivered around him.

He felt the internal shudders that mean she was close. He kissed her deep and slipped a finger to her clit, rubbing there. Her climax flooded both of them with warm water. His was a heartbeat later.

And now that the sharp desperate edge of his lust was taken off, he could savor it. The way their bodies fit together. The way their fluids mingled. Her arms flung around his neck, her golden hair tickling his nose — all of it.

He pulled out with a sigh.

_Oh, that look. _

The light in her gold eyes said she'd always love him, no matter how many times she called him a dipstick. She settled and let him fold her beneath his arm. Warm. Safe. For both of them. _She wants me, _Jayce thought. It made him feel good.

She yawned. "Hey."

"Yeah?" He was expecting an _I love you, dipstick. _

Instead she said sleepily, "You hear they're closin' down the Institute of War?"

He blinked. "What?"

But it was too late. His tigress was already asleep in the arms of her Defender Man.

Jayce closed his eyes and prayed the burning Wheel wasn't waiting for him in his dreams. Or for her.

Especially not for her.

_Ta - aikah. _


	2. Chapter 2

_N.B. Any song lyrics are from real songs that I love. Just a thought._

_Not sure when we'll meet again._

_- vO _

* * *

><p>It was the second argument in a week.<p>

The first had been small and two days ago.

_ Just — stop cleaning! Stop it! _Luxanna had shaken the broom in his direction. Ezreal tried to snatch it away and was rewarded with a sharp jab to the chest.

_But —_

_ No. I can handle it, Ez. Really. I'm fine. _The shattered black Ionian vase from Lux's dusting attempts said otherwise. She'd been sweeping the shards up before Ezreal pounced on them, to help her.

_ But — _

_ There's nothing to clean anyway, _she had snapped. _It looks like a lab in here. _Then she'd paused. _I sound ridiculous, don't I? _

_ A tiny bit, mother, _Everett said quietly over "Matthiason & Garbevech's Proverbs: How Magic Works & Why." The slight Noxian accent made both Ezreal and Lux flinch.

Then Lux smiled and shook her head. _At least leave some dishes for me to do. You're treating me like I'm sick. _Ezreal heard her think, _Like a Noxian lady-in-waiting. I'm about to lose it. _

_ O - okay. Alright. Fine. _Ezreal had rubbed at his lips. Ever since Everett, their five-room suite on the palace's top floor had been spotless. _It's not you being sick, Lux. I just don't want Everett to —_

_ You know, I'm pretty sure he knows better than to eat stuff on the floor. _Luxanna looked meaningfully at the tattered book of techmaturgical proverbs, then at Everett's neat, geographical notes next to it. He was — two? Ezreal thought. But he looked six and sounded ancient. _Just a thought. _

_ I mean. I get the craving for a good bug every now and then. _

_ Then you know it shouldn't hurt him. _And Ezreal heard her think, _I never realized how overprotective he would be. Of both of us. _

The argument today wasn't as cute or petty. It was sudden and brief, like a lightning storm.

After silently letting Luxanna shout at him for twenty minutes — he knew she was getting stress out — Ezreal clenched his fists and roared, "I don't care how much you trust them! He's not going anywhere alone!"

A long pause. Ezreal took a few deep, calm breaths to relax himself and felt the tension filter out of his muscles, the way water seeped through rocks.

"You're scaring him." Lux shuddered and looked down at Everett, who looked back up mildly with his father's storm-blue eyes. He was knee-high to her, fair, pale and blonde. His blue shirt and tiny jeans were just as clean as everything else. "Ez. I fully believe no one's going to hurt him."

_Liar, _Ezreal wanted to snarl. He looked down at Everett, too, who motioned him to go on. "Even if I think most of the Generals are great people, it's still Noxus. People are in and out of this palace every single day. The Black Rose. The Diamond Adders. The men trying to buy the Willow-Doves off the Generals."

"Those men are a myth," Luxanna said quietly.

"Still. There's still whatever the f — heck Talon's calling his faction." Ezreal's vocabulary was as clean as their quarters.

Luxanna was shaking her head and tugging her trendy black flats on. A strand of gold hair slipped free from her braid. "He's still an explorer, right? Tell me you wouldn't be lost in here immediately."

"I wasn't lost. That's a very important distinction to me." Everett Lightbringer cocked his head. "I was fully aware of my surroundings."

"That's even worse," Ez muttered.

Everett nodded. "My apologies for upsetting you, though I still contend that your prejudice is incomprehensible."

"It's alright. It doesn't matter now." Lux pulled her crimson peasant shirt down, then rolled her shoulders. She took Everett's hand and thought to Ezreal, though she couldn't hear him think back. _You can't keep him locked up in here forever._

"I know." Ezreal tugged his golden bangs. "Believe me."

"Good." She kissed Ez's burning forehead and led Everett away for a day of shopping. With Katarina, Noxus' best assassin.

Near his son.

_Godsdamnit. _

* * *

><p>With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, Ezreal sat at his pristine desk by the window. And looked out. The sharp, scarlet spires of Noxus stretched before him in the mellow spring noontide — the view was fantastic.<p>

He didn't notice. He was too busy hating his inborn wanderlust, and how he'd passed it on.

Everett hadn't been home this morning. Which was fine. Sometimes the boy went to the tea room at the end of the hall to read in peace. Dad snored, apparently. That was approved.

But when Ezreal checked, he wasn't in there. And nowhere on this vast floor, nor the one below it.

By the forty-third room, Ezreal's heart — he felt it crumple, begin to sizzle and burn. His temples throbbed. The paintings of pine trees and the silver chandeliers overhead doubled, blurred. _If anyone hurt him they're gonna have fucking hell to pay. I don't care if Ryland rules this place or not. I'll blow it off the fucking map. _He flung open the door on a Noxian General and Cressida kissing on a couch and whirled away. _Fucking Noxus. _

_ Find Ryland, _a tiny whisper said in the back of his mind. _Ryland will fix it. _That whisper refused to go away, no matter how much time passed since — well.

But Ryland was doubtlessly busy doing things that were actually important. Besides — Ezreal couldn't even find his own son? How pathetic was that? He still needed Ryland to take care of him?

Ezreal stormed through the third and second story, felt anger slow-drip into his blood like venom. Then he stumbled into Morning Glory. The other Lightbringer child, who was examining a row of General statues and tracing them with snowy hands..

They stared at one another, her green eyes wild and shining. Her white-blonde hair was like a halo.

It was complicated. Ezreal's first impulse was to take her in his arms, stroke her shoulders. She looked like Lux but twenty years younger, around ten years old. Ezreal's second impulse was black fury. Morning Glory looked like Aven, too.

And Ez was convinced Morning Glory hated him, but maybe she knew where her half-brother was.

He took one step towards her, hand outstretched. She turned white fawn and bounded away, as light as evening mist.

_Damn it. She hates me. _He didn't want her to hate him.

"Worry not," a well-bred voice said behind him. He whirled. General — Robeson? Ezreal had difficulty keeping track. All the Generals were wealthy, handsome, black-haired, green-eyed. Telepathic. Murderers. "She flees from everyone save Demetrius Falin. Even her father himself."

"I — my boy. He's lost." Ezreal regretted saying anything. He thought the Generals would send each other electrical signals and eat Everett alive, like sharks.

"Ah. Everett? Sweet child. Michelie saw him high-tailing it to the basement."

Ezreal realized a very pretty little girl was holding her father's hand. A crimson brocade dress, black hair so smooth she looked like a doll.

_We're people, _Ezreal heard General Robeson think. _All of us. _

Then Ezreal thought _The basement? _And Arcane Shifted away without thanking him. _What the hell's in the basement? _

He Shifted down the stairs, golden sparks spattering behind him, checked the dark suits of ancient armor. His son wasn't hiding among the swords, shields or piles of musty scrolls.

Then Ezreal heard them singing some stupid Noxian song, corrupted by their Willow-Dove accents. _Oh, no. Everett. Come on. _

"_Hear my heart beat like a hummingbird  
>Like a hummingbird…<em>

_But no matter how I try  
>You still won't look me in the eye.<br>Are you afraid you'll fall into the darkness that's inside,  
>Whilst my arms are open wide…?"<em>

He flung the last pair of doors open and choked on steam. The air was heavy, humid.

The Willow-Doves halted, peering at him with shocked blue eyes.

_Yeah. Sure. The Generals treat them as equals. That's why they freeze up at every loud noise. _Ezreal would never believe it.

Everett Lightbringer was wearing one of their white collared shirts, too big for him, helping with the laundry. Stacks of hot damp clothes were piled all around him, and he was standing beside auburn-haired Caelyn Falin. That alone was enough to turn Ez's stomach. The fact that Everett shared the rest of the slaves' golden hair and shiny blue eyes made Ezreal feel sick.

His first impulse was to strike his son. Then he thought about it and cringed away, fearful of hurting him. _I can't. I can't ever._ Instead of sounding angry, Ez sounded terrified. "What — what are you doing down here?"

"Laundry." Everett's slight Noxian accent made everything sound sarcastic. The Willow-Doves laughed.

"But — why?"

"It's laundry day," he said solemnly. Ezreal never knew if he was being sarcastic or not.

One of the Doves chuckled. "Not jus' f'women, is it? Y'not die if y'touch dirty clothes." There was more giggling.

_If my son gets that accent I will hang myself, _Ezreal thought. He watched Everett's cherubic face light with a smile and felt bitter envy, deep in his throat. His fists clenched when he heard, "More importantly, why's the Destroyer not be down here with us?"

Ryan White, one of the prominent Willow-Doves, clicked his tongue. "Got himself a Demacian housewife, 'member? No need o'us Pine-Chickens." A loud round of merriment.

One of the littlest Doves blinked. "Then why _she _not be down here?"

The roar of laughter made Ezreal's cheeks flood red. "Listen. I do my laundry."

"Holy hell. The God of Destruction does his own laundry?" Caelyn cocked his head. "Y'know, y'could just throw i'down here and we'd take care of —"

"Shut up." Ezreal couldn't stand him. But it wasn't just Ezreal being mean. Aven hated him, too.

Caelyn shut up and looked away. Everett frowned.

"He's just tryin' t'be nice, my lord." Ryan the Dove sighed. "So y'do your own laundry."

"Yeah. _Mine. _Not anyone else's."

"Poor Ev, havin' t'wash his own shorts." Caelyn went to pat Everett on the head with a scarred hand — the boy had been very sweet to him. Ezreal snarled, snatched his son away, and slammed the door on them. As he strode towards the staircase, he spotted the silver Dove pin on Everett's right breast and yanked it off.

They paused on the first floor, between two thick, sweet-smelling potted trees. There was a Shurimanan tourist group touring the palace. Their gentle whispers faded into the vaulted ceiling as they moved away.

Everett's ocean-blue eyes filled with tears. He blinked them back.

Ez's chest caught. "N - no. You're allowed to cry. That was pretty mean of me."

"Crying is childish," Everett sighed. "The headache's not worth any cathartic release."

"It's fine." Ezreal's heart began to slow. "Just — you can't — you can't wear this." He wanted to crush the Dove pin in his hand, but its eye was a genuine diamond, its wings fringed with white sapphires. He could tell by the cut. His appreciation for fine craftwork stopped him.

"No?"

_Not until you're older, _Ezreal wanted to say, and couldn't. He and Lux had long, wandering conversations at night about what growing up in Noxus meant for their son.

And he'd had more than one nightmare where Everett ended up as Ryland's Willow-Dove, the King's black gauntlet buried in Everett's golden tresses. _The Wheel turns. Repayment for all the hurt._ It seemed probable, but it pained Ezreal to think about. The ache lingered in his chest like cold smoke.

But — supporting Everett's decisions. That was important. Both he and Lux agreed on that.

_He's two, _Lux tried to remind him. Ezreal knew it didn't matter.

"Why can't I wear it?" Everett's cute lips thinned. He rarely smiled around his father.

"It means something it shouldn't."

"Ah. I think I know what it is." Everett cocked his head. "It's a simple signifier. Their status as property, right?"

"That's one way to put it."

Everett nodded, businesslike and displeased, his blond curls shifting. "I assure you, I thought nothing of the sort. It was a gift. They're all eager to make others happy."

"Mhm." Ezreal hesitated and put a hand on his shoulders. _Not going to hurt him. Not going to hurt him. I can do this. Not everyone I touch gets hurt. _He led his son towards a private, dimmer hallway. It was still grand and elegant, lit by stained light-fixtures and stained glass. The moonlit heavens. The sharp mountains of Ionia. "You're — we're headed back up to the room, alright?"

Everett sighed from the bottom of his stomach. The sleeves of the white servant's shirt dragged along the sun-colored tile. "Of course. Although I'm starting to feel like the boy from that one Noxian fable their Foxboy Caelyn told me. The boy locked up so long that domestic chores began to be appealing. The moral was 'you may as well enjoy the work now. You will eventually. Better to avoid the lockup.'"

The relief Ezreal felt from finding him made the horrifying message seem irrelevant. He nodded. _Even if he was among the slaves, it was just for a little while. Doesn't matter. He's fine._

Everett glanced at him sidelong, meaningfully. "That's all we were doing. Laundry and stories. The boys know hundreds of them. Some of them are factual, of Caelyn's deeds in the war. Sometimes they call him _Angel-Slayer, _which I find very, very interesting."

It was clear Everett wanted to stay with the Doves longer. The unspoken question was lingering at the end of his words — _can I go back to them? Just for an hour or two? _

"The Doves — you can't. Everett, you just can't." Ezreal rubbed his forehead. _Why is everyone drawn to those stupid slaveboys? Why? _

Everett huffed. "You and Aven, I swear."

"What?" _He talks to Aven? When? How? _

"Hm?" Everett glanced up at him. Ezreal was startled to find genuine anger there. "You two have such a horrible prejudice against slaves. It's abhorrent, truly. I'd believe two scholars such as yourselves would be more empathetic."

"Ev." Numb, Ezreal pulled back. The shiny fragments of gold swirled deep in the blue pools of Everett's eyes. Glistening. _Oh. Fuck. Overflow. _The chandeliers overhead swayed slightly, the candles guttering. He watched, amazed, as a stained glass window of King Ryland I triumphing over the angels began to sparkle red and gold.

Part of Ezreal's heart took wing, soaring in a wild northern sky. _He's just as powerful as his father. _The other part froze and shattered. _He might be just as cursed. _

Ezreal swallowed hard. "Hey — I — I need you to relax."

Everett's voice was calm, but his blue eyes blazed. "I simply cannot understand. The fury you feel at those enchained — it's ironic, isn't it?"

Ezreal watched, helpless. _So this is what it's like. No wonder they're all afraid of me. _It was mesmerizing.

"Ironic because I can't set foot free from the boundaries of the top floor without you —"

"Hey!" Luxanna dashed to them and scooped Everett into her arms, squeezing him tight. General Irving had told her where to find her lover and son. Then she frowned at Ezreal. "What on —"

"I'll explain." They'd gone upstairs.

And so Ezreal had explained, he and Luxanna had argued, Luxanna had taken Everett's side, and Luxanna and Ev left for some fresh air. With Katarina du Couteau.

Near his son.

* * *

><p>In the present, at his desk, Ezreal buried his head deep in his hands and groaned. <em>Isn't it better to have overprotective parents than ones who don't give a shit? Isn't it? <em>He paused. _Does he hate me? _The idea of his son hating him made him miserable. The way it was going, he probably liked Aven more. Just like Ryland did.

"Ugh." Ezreal rested his cheek on the warmed window sill. _I wouldn't be surprised. _

Speaking of Ryland — through the open window, Ezreal heard his musical voice in the lush courtyard below and subconsciously leaned towards it. The King and Aven stood by a dragon-shaped fountain and two stout Generals. One of the Generals rumbled, "Thank you for making us aware of this, your majesty. It takes great trust from a ruler to let us know something of ultimate importance."

_What is it? _Ezreal wondered. He knew Ryland was trying to be hands off, to let Ezreal raise his family. But sometimes Ezreal missed being in the middle of it all.

Sometimes.

The two Generals turned to depart towards the city, Aven to come back inside the castle. Ryland caught Aven's wrist.

"Do you truly have to return again? So soon?" Ryland's voice was soft, plaintive. "I — I know you do."

"Aye, y'know I do." Aven nuzzled Ryland's hand and vanished in a whirl of white-yellow sparks. Standard Beta. Ryland stood frozen for a moment.

_Teleporting's pretty damn rude. _Ezreal scowled. He was more upset that Ryland looked lonely, even from five floors up.

But no. Ryland was the king. He had to be busy.

Ezreal watched Ryland sink onto a bench between two regal hedges with his head in his hands. Sort of like Ezreal had earlier. Ez instinctively reached for his thoughts.

… _no one to talk to. The Generals are worried, Aven's — busy. Ezreal's raising his family. Soraka's with Michael Whitefield, who's with Oliver dar Regale. I don't want to trouble Demetrius for the thousandth time this week, especially not with 'I'm lonely.' He's an adviser first, friend second. Kat and Skylan — gods. Never thought I'd end up alone again._

Ezreal felt a spurt of relief, that Ryland's attention was split. He brushed his teeth for a second time, finger-combed his hair, and departed.

Morning Glory again, in the hall. And Caelyn's precious _Master_ Demetrius.

"Look, love," the Tactician was laughing. _Isn't that Jayce's red shirt? _Ezreal wondered. "Your sign language has an accent. Don't ask me how. I've no idea what you're trying to tell me."

Morning Glory traced a few more figures in the air and doubled over with silent giggles. Her grin was Luxanna's.

_Oh, she's mute, _Ezreal realized. He frowned. _Why didn't I figure that out earlier? _

Demetrius smiled. "At least you find it humorous."

Glory caught sight of Ezreal and leapt into the Tactician's arms as a white fawn. Demetrius glanced at Ezreal and stroked Glory's white muzzle. The Tactician's warm voice quivered. "Hm. Don't know that I'd be much of a match for him if it came to protecting you."

"You're damn right," Ezreal muttered. The marriage to Caelyn four days ago had given him a thorough case of the creeps.

He strode past them, through the magnificent golden-lined hallways, beneath the star-studded glass ceilings. He broke into the fresh, sweet air and thought, _Everett's right. I should let him outside. _The palace was beautiful, but the lovely gardens a relief.

Ryland raised his head when he heard Ezreal's footsteps. His face lit up. "Ez?"

"Hey, your Majesty." Ez leaned in for a hug and sneezed from Ryland's spicy Noxian cologne.

"Oh. Thanks. I needed snot to decorate this shirt." Ryland's laugh took a little more tension away. The gardenias nearby were blooming,

"You're welcome." Ez sneezed into his own sleeve and collapsed on the bench beside him. The warm arm around his shoulders startled him until he remembered they were in Noxus. And that it was Ryland. His friend. "Sorry Aven can't hang out with you."

Ryland glanced at him. He looked good, Ezreal thought. Hale and healthy. His dark shirt was an earthy green, his arms muscled. His jaw, shoulders and hands were rugged now, his eyes clear as glass and the color of budding leaves. Noxian. "Huh. You're really getting into the Noxian spirit with that eavesdropping aren't you?"

Ez blinked. "Ouch."

"No, no, I —" Ryland sighed, and beneath that rugged exterior of his face, Ez glimpsed the old Ryland. _Fear? _"I'm just — tired. That's a good word for it. Life is rough."

"I know."

Ryland looked at him. "Sucks sometimes."

"Yep." Ezreal nodded. Ryland might be the King, but it took only a few moments for them to settle back into it. Their rhythm. The turning Wheel.

"If you ever need help finding your son, come talk to me."

Ezreal laughed aloud. "Who's eavesdropping now?"

"Both of us, it would seem, yes, quite." The snooty accent made Ez laugh again even when he wanted to frown. Ryland ruffled his hair. It felt good. "How many times have I told you I'm never too busy for you?"

"A lot."

"Exactly. I miss you, anyway."

"Even with your own people?"

"Of course." Ryland smiled. And just like that they were friends again. Healer, Destroyer, Sorcerer, Explorer. Father, King. Didn't matter.

Ezreal rested his cheek on Ryland's shoulder. "My son hates me. And he Overflowed."

Ryland froze. "Well. I know the first one's not true."

"How?"

"I talked to him this morning. He said, quote, 'I love my father very deeply, but he drives me mad sometimes.'" Ryland cocked his head. "'He doesn't let me leave the suite upstairs.'"

"Oh." Ezreal closed his eyes. Having to explain to his friend that he didn't trust his kingdom — that made his cheeks burn even more than the Willow-Doves and their laundry. "Ryland, I'm trying very hard to understand this place."

"I know. You're doing a great job.

Ezreal flushed harder. "But I — I don't trust Everett wandering around here alone."

To Ez's surprise, Ryland leaned back, cracked his knuckles and said, "Nor do I. That's why I enacted an ordinance, what, two days ago?"

"Wh —"

Ryland's voice boomed. "'He or she who lays hand or mind on Everett Lightbringer, Morning Glory Lightbringer, Erinae Varden and/or Caelyn Falin shall face probable death but definite severe penalties as defined under —' Demetrius filled out the specific section, code and stuff. He knows the law better than anyone."

"Two days ago?" Ezreal frowned.

"Aye. Lux knew about it."

"And you guys just didn't tell me?"

An unnamable look passed over Ryland's face, like the shadow of a cloud. "I wasn't sure how you'd react. I know you're fully capable of protecting your son. I didn't —"

Ezreal impulsively hugged him tight. Ryland flinched, then hugged him back

"Thank you."

"Hey. It's alright." Ryland hesitated. "You seem just as lonely as I do."

"I'm not — but — why's Caelyn in there? In that ordinance?" Ezreal huffed. "Isn't he twenty?"

"Oh. That." Ryland's warm smile turned grim. "You know how you hate him?"

"Uh - huh." There was no used trying to lie to Ryland, who saw Caelyn as a hero and refused to see him any other way.

"Aven does, too."

"I know." They were the only two things Creation and Destruction agreed on. First, that slavery was evil. Second, that Caelyn Falin was an abomination.

"Well, there was this." Ryland leaned his temple against Ezreal's to show him the memory. Their link and powers were so strong now that the physical distance didn't matter, but it was a throwback to their earlier relationship.

_Caelyn Falin, homely even as a fox, with ragtag whiskers and raggedy red-gold fur. His ribs, thin as candlewicks, his black whiskers frazzled. And when he slept, his canine teeth protruded, giving him a silly look. His black nose had patches of dark brown flaking off, the pads of his paws swollen, a corner of his tufted black ears torn away. Death had not been kind. But Demetrius still saw the shining, soft clean fur Caelyn had had as a pup. _

_A week before the wedding — Caelyn slumbering on his Master Demetrius Falin's shiny black shoes while the Tactician did paperwork. Sun setting, violin music playing. Demetrius smiling slightly when the half-broken fox twitched in his slumber. Demetrius thinking with quiet delight, _I missed watching him sleep. I suppose that makes me a bit strange. It fills me with unshakeable peace.

_Aven Lightbringer leaning in a doorway where neither would notice him. Taking a moment's break. Thinking _I could just put the little ugly thing from its misery, just stop its heart or sever its spine with a clean slice. Pop a vein, let him hemorrhage. _An imaginary picture of Demetrius' face filling with dread, sorrow, despair. He'd weep in agonized grief. _Stop the Tactician's heart, too. He'd beg for it.

_Aven noticing Ryland behind him and blushing hard. Demetrius hearing Aven's thoughts and tucking the ragged fox inside his suit jacket, eying the Lightbringer suspiciously. Caelyn sleepily oblivious, lapping at Dem's cheek with a dry purple-pink tongue. An awkward pause. Ryland frowning. "Aven?" "Nothin', y'majesty." _He's a fragment from a broken Wheel. Wish he'd be gone. _The three stared blankly at one another. Demetrius buttoned Caelyn all the way inside his coat and continued working. Trying not to panic. Demetrius thought, _I can shield him from many things, but not a god. I cannot lose him again. I thought Creation would be compassionate to one of his creatures.

He's not one of mine, _Aven had thought. He bit his lip._

I know. _The Tactician's eyes filled with tears he quickly hid._

_It was honestly the most awkward moment in Ryland's life, so awkward it had given him nightmares for the past week and a half. _

Ezreal looked up into the pale spring sky. "I'll be honest. I've thought sh - stuff like that before."

"Yeah, but yours were more violent. I heard you think of stomping on his neck — yesterday, I think."

"Yeah. I wouldn't, though." _I think. _

"Then there were the eight guys who jumped him the night after the wedding." Ryland looked away. "Can you keep that secret?"

"Of course. No one to tell. Jumped Caelyn?" _Eight guys? Or Generals? I think it was Generals. _

"Aye. And Demetrius fought them all off. Broke three of their arms and two of their noses. A few ribs. He wanted it to remain secret so the media didn't…" Ryland sighed. "Something similar happened to Erinae yesterday. A strange coincidence. And you know what I told them?"

"What?" Ezreal's eyes slipped closed.

Ryland's face was solemn. "The Wheel turns."

"Ughhhhhhhhhh." Ezreal hid his face in his knees. "Ryland. Please."

"That's — Ezreal, I'm scared again."

"What?"

"Scared."

The Destroyer stared at his friend. The primal north rushed back into his body — the throbbing muscles from sleeping on metal Generator floors, the constant planet-sized weight of fear. Fear that Ryland simply wouldn't awaken, and the soul-souring relief when his eyes opened at last. On edge, waiting for Quinn to be torn to bloody ribbons. The cold. The steely gleam of machines underneath a bone moon. Erinae's nervous laugh. Jayce's horror. _Do you see it? The Aurora above us? Aurora, protect us. _She wasn't protecting them. No one Aurora hated Ezreal, but kept the Wheel spinning. For her other weakling son.

He didn't realize he was quivering until Ryland murmured, "I didn't mean to scare you too. I'm sorry."

"It's — it's fine, Ryland, but why?"

The King let the silence linger. Ezreal wondered what he was remembering — he had his mind blocked. Probably Ezreal snapping his wrist. Or how warm and sweet Aven seemed compared to the wild, howling snow-choked blackness, inside Ryland's mind and out.

"You know what I can't get out of my head?" Ryland asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"'We just have to strap on armor to save the princess.'" Ryland tucked his chin to his chest. "But that's not why I'm scared. I wish it was."

"Just tell me. Please." Ezreal's heart began to beat strangely.

"I — you know, a lot of people have been having nightmares again. Really specific ones. Have you?"

"Aye. Yes. I forget them, though." Ezreal shivered.

"Right. They're usually about _ta - kitan_."

"I don't remember that one. Only ta - aikah."

"The Wheel burns." Ryland rubbed Ezreal's shoulders. Then the King's words came in a flood. "Everyone's dreaming about the holes you blew in the sky. Two of them, I think. Even people who weren't there — we don't like to talk about that. Caelyn came up to me and whispered 'I dreamt of my breaking, then of a disc of gray nothingness where neither eye nor heart could penetrate.'"

"Did he really say that? Because he talks like a Willow-Dove around the Willow-Doves. Ugh. That's so fake." Ezreal paused. "His _breaking_? Ryland, what the f —"

"Ezreal —"

"I'm listening." His fists were clenched.

"A few of the Generals too. And Erinae, she told me about it. She said — this is a quote — 'I usually just pretend none of that bullshit happened and that I got a sugar daddy who adopted me from the cathouse. I mean that's basically what happened. But there it was in my dream, this giant fuckin' egg-ballsack shaped piece of gray shit comin' to eat me and everyone else.'"

Ezreal snorted, but his insides were burning. "And?"

"Aven…" Ryland buried his head in his knees, with his hands over the back of his neck. "He's not around a lot. Neither of you are."

"Yeah. I have an excuse." Ezreal grimaced. _He really does sound lonely. I know Katarina broke up with him for good for Skylan, and Cressida's with Graves…_ "I'm raising Everett. I don't know what he's doing."

"I do." Ryland reached into his pocket and pulled a piece of parchment free. Ezreal could see the loops of black ink through the transparent sheet. His own handwriting, with just a little curve to it. Aven's. Ryland spread it out on his lap, on the dressy black jeans all the Generals wore — the map was surprisingly large — and Ezreal cocked his head.

"The Wheel. Right?" _I'm sick of that thing. I've been sick of that thing. _

"Aye." Ryland's voice was soft. He traced the perfect circular outline, then the spokes. Four of the worlds were glassy blue-green, adrift in an ocean of stars. The Southern World, Death's Former Kingdom, was an ugly red, black, gray. It dangled from the spoke by one crimson-gold thread. _Caelynae, _Ezreal thought, and didn't know why.

"The Southern World? Is that why you're frightened?"

"No, not that either." Ryland hesitated, then snapped his fingers. Two large blotches of the map turned a crinkly black. It took Ezreal a moment to realize they were burning. One of the holes was in between the Northern and Western World, the other hovering close to the North. Where they were. Ezreal's breath caught as the paper continued to burn. He exhaled when it came to a stop. The burns were almost kissing the Northern World.

Then he frowned. "Ryland. I know I'm the Destroyer or whatever, but come the f — heck on. I know the holes I blew weren't that large." _The sky rippled like a lake. I remember that. _

Ryland's half-smile had come back. "You remind me of when I tried not to swear."

"Ryland."

'The holes are spreading. Ta - Kitan. And Life and Death are no longer around to monitor and fix them. That's what Aven's been doing this entire time. He sits up there." Ryland pointed to the highest spire. It was dotted with statues of winged horses and wolves. "And he tries to weave them. He's made a lot of progress — they're shrinking — but it's hard to stop because they spread, too."

Ezreal's temples throbbed. "And if they —"

"It'll destroy the Wheel. Even though we thought we saved it."

"Still my fault." Ezreal's eyes flicked away, to the castle walls. He heard the Generals greeting one another, a small songbird perch in the tree next to them and twitter and chirrup. A mild wind brushed his face. The spring in Noxus was beautiful. The people of Noxus were beautiful, too, but dangerous.

Ryland was watching him carefully.

_Still afraid of me. My son's afraid of me. _

Ezreal waited for the crimson anger to return, but it was sadness. Empty hollow sadness. He leaned on Ryland's chest, thinking _Ryland will make it better. _That would be his last thought before the Wheel vanished into the gray.

"Hey. Listen. I don't want to worry you. Aven has it under control."

"I should be helping him. Why didn't you tell me? You know I would."

"We don't think you can." Ryland hugged him tighter. "Believe me. We talked about that almost as much as my successor."

"Successor? To the throne? Ryland, I haven't heard _anything._"

"They wanted to name Morning Glory."

_Why not Everett? _Ezreal wondered instinctually, then cursed himself.

"I said the exact same thing." Ryland leveled his gaze. "And that shut them up."

Ezreal's heart fluttered. "I mean, we still don't know if we'll even ever die. You might not need a successor. When will we know for certain?"

"When we do." King Ryland II smiled. "We should go get lunch."

"I don't know if I'm hungry after that," Ezreal murmured. Then he paused. "You know what?"

"Hm?"

"I almost expected you to say _Let's go grab some Central Fountain._"

"Oh. That." Ryland smiled. The light danced off his clear green eyes. Even with Ta - Kitan, his gaze was finally free from worry and sadness. Just Aven's proximity — and Ezreal's health — was enough to heal him. Chase away the shadows in his blood. Ryland was saved. "You know they're shutting down the Institute of War?"

"Why?"

"Because both Noxus and Demacia have withdrawn."

The news took a moment for Ezreal to process. "…Oh. I guess without us there…"

"Aye."

_That was where I fell in love with Lux. Where I met Ryland. _

Ezreal swallowed hard and took Ryland's outstretched, destroyed, gloved hand. At least that was still the same.

_Ta - aikah. _

* * *

><p>Luxanna Lightbringer didn't want to complain. She never did.<p>

She should've been dead — she no longer knew how many times. Just that it was many. The Wheel turned, tried its hardest to crush her. And Ezreal beat it back with the sheer force of his will.

_And Ryland…_

She hadn't asked for a wild thunderstorm of a boy to fall in love with her, to love her enough to chase her through time, through worlds, through arguments and his own black Destroyer's rage.

"I should've been married to Jarvan IV," she murmured over her coffee, then sipped it.

"Too late now." Katarina's green eyes twinkled. "He got married to Shyvana two days ago. Two days after Demetrius and Caelyn."

"Really?" Luxanna was startled. The feast must have been massive. She pictured the crowns of golden hair, the silver and white armor both of them would wear. Shyvana's dark hair would be entwined with white ribbons, Jarvan in full military honors.

She looked around the outdoor café and didn't see anyone without black hair. The Noxian women striding confidently, jewels dripping from their necks and ears.

Deep in Noxus, she hadn't heard a word breathed about it.

"Aye. We all laughed, watched it via 'screen. You and Ezreal were busy. Demetrius made some snooty comment about them stealing his flower arrangement ideas and Caelyn punched him on the arm, muttering something about _most inappropriate Sir has ever been about anything ever and quite frankly it's driving me more insane than I've been, if that's possible_. _You should respect a monarchy, Master._ I've never seen Demetrius or Ryland laugh so hard." Katarina looked away with gritted teeth. Fucking Ryland.

"Two great men married to half-animals," Everett said solemnly. He took a swallow of his mixed berry smoothie. "Perhaps they need the wilderness to temper the bounds civilization have put on them."

Katarina blinked, then looked at Lux. "Do you understand a word he says?"

"I — try to. I try very hard." She smiled at Everett, who eventually smiled back. "He escaped this morning. Dad got very, very angry. Kat, I had no idea Ezreal would be so — so —"

"Overbearing? Obnoxious?"

Lux squeezed her arm. "Overprotective."

"Um. Duh. Hello." Kat slammed her empty cup down. Her emerald eyes sparkled with exasperation. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. I don't —"

"Lux." Kat shook her head. "Do you — I've been meaning to ask you. Do you remember what happened? At all? With you killing yourself?"

Luxanna glanced at Everett, who shrugged and said, "Life has its ugly sides. I've come to know that already."

"I — I —"

"And even way back with the fucking razor on your throat? Hello? Locked up in the Tower surrounded by the Demacian afterlife? You better be thankful my boy —" She paused. "Yeah, no. My boyfriend still kicked ass."

_I remember every moment, no matter how much I long to forget. _The most vivid was Ryland standing outside the Gates in all black, a shadow among the trees. His deep booming voice. _I've come to save the princess. _She'd hated him then, but — the laughing light in his eyes now, the way he tugged his black hair when he was nervous. He smiled at her now. Soraka had taught him how to forgive.

"You're right, aren't you?" Lux shook her head. "I hate that."

"Always am."

"You hear —"

"They're closing down the Institute? Aye." Luxanna got to her feet. _I understand now. _

Everett looked up at her knowingly.

* * *

><p>When she returned to their rooms upstairs — after getting the news from Ryland that Ezreal had okayed Everett staying with the Willow-Doves — she found Ezreal sitting at his desk, looking out. If she tried very hard, sometimes she could make out the very blurred edges of what he was thinking about. <em>Nothing. <em>She shivered.

Before she could say anything, he met her lips with his, pressing her against the wall with his body. His hands ran through her hair.

Even with her dim empathy, Lux could feel the depth of anger residing in Ezreal. It formed in his body like a massive thunderstorm, deep and dark and shot through with azure lightning. She met his anger with soft caresses, her hands sliding over his skin, down his chest and stomach. Gold and blue magic danced through her veins.

She at last broke their kiss, pulling a deep breath into her lungs.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" The concern in his eyes made her heart ache.

"I'm fine. I'm just not used to extended romantic engages." She blinked. "That sounded a little general-esque. I apologize."

He brushed aside a lock of her hair. "It sounds like you. I like that. You're genuine. Not like everyone else." His lips slid down her pale neck, ending with a tiny nip at her breastbone. Lux gasped.

"Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine." _God, I'm making this so awkward. Lux, shut up_, she commanded herself. It was hard not to sound awkward. Alone with her idol, her biggest crush._ He was still her greatest love, her greatest friend. _"I feel like I'm dreaming," she murmured.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." He nibbled her ear lobe and kissed her jawbone, sending a wave of physical desire down Lux's spine. "And try to relax. You can give in to me." _Please. Please give into me. I need you. _

Her muscles were stiff. She realized she was standing at parade rest. With another shuddering breath, she relaxed against him, nuzzling him and inhaling deeply the scent of his skin. She kissed him urgently, her tongue meeting his. _He tastes so sweet_..._So sweet. Like the desert in the spring. _

She moaned and felt Ezreal freeze. "What's wrong?" she panted.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Holding her tightly, they moved towards the bed.

His fingers were shaking as he tugged at her blouse. The idea that Ezreal desired her so much pleased her. She helped him remove her shirt, revealing her tiny white bra.

He paused. Ezreal lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. "You're beautiful." _You've always been beautiful to me. _

That simple statement struck her dumb. _The very idea did._ He tore her bra off and lowered his mouth to her breasts. Her back arched and she stifled another sigh of pleasure. "So beautiful," he murmured against her chest. His fingers slid down her belly.

Lux's muscles contracted. Feeling her tense up, he stopped. A flush of shame rose to his cheeks, the dark desire in his eyes ebbing away. "We don't have to do this right now," he murmured. _I'm sorry._

Lux couldn't say anything. At last she said, "No need to apologize."

"Why not? I should. I've put you through so much." Ezreal's blue eyes shone with flecks of sunny, starry gold.

She realized with a start that she wasn't afraid of him anymore. She said it aloud.

"What?" Those gold-blue eyes widened. "Lux —"

"I'm not afraid of you. Not at all. Destroyer or no." She leaned in and kissed him. And before her eyes, his eyes whirled and sparkled with magic embers of all colors. Blue, Gold, Silver. Red. "I'm not afraid," she whispered in his ear. "Not at all."

Not when his rough hands dug into her skin, or his kiss brought a flood of desire like none she'd ever felt.

_I'm not afraid of anything, so long as he is with me. _


	3. Chapter 3

_N.B. Hello, Readers! Hope your holiday season's merry and bright and that finals haven't eaten too much of your soul._

_This one goes out to all the people who requested me to write "the characters just hanging out together" (a surprising number). _

_Currently restructuring my OC novel. Most likely I'm gonna self publish it online for a few bucks because, well, money. I'll let you guys know if you want. _

_Cheers,  
><em>

_vO _

* * *

><p>"So it isn't like having a father?"<p>

Everett shook the wrinkles out of General Risposte's giant green nightshirt. It smelled of sawdust and smoke. _I could make a tent from it, if I so desired and it were allowed. _The thought made him smile.

"Not — not entirely like that, no." Caelyn's cheeks warmed.

"It simply shares many components of a parental relationship — am I asking stupid questions?" He noticed the Willow-Doves giggling beside Caelyn.

Wren White rubbed his eyes. "Not one bit, little 'un. Great questions. Foxboy's gonna keel over, though."

_No idea what that means. _"Demetrius takes care of you, right? And he's in charge of household expenses. Now that you're retired he's the principal wage earner, and —"

Caelyn shivered. "I know not if I sh'be tellin' y'these things. _Your_ father —"

"Please. I know you all see Ezreal as some Lord of Destruction —" Everett's tone was dismissive.

"He's _Sit'ra,_" five nearby boys whispered in unison.

"But I doubt he'll harm you." He folded another three shirts just as quickly as the other boys with years of practice did. Earlier Linnaeus Isaacs had called him a _nat'ral_, which pleased him. When he understood it.

Even without his father's pointed disgust, Everett would've still found Foxboy fascinating. He cleared his throat when Caelyn turned to ironing, focusing hard. And blushing.

"So? He owns you?"

"Aye."

"Like he owns those shirts?" Everett pointed to the stack of silk and cotton in all different colors. Deep crimsons, rich evening-sky blues. _I wish my father dressed like that. _

"Aye, like a shirt," Caelyn sighed.

"But this doesn't displease you."

"No' a' all."

"Hmmm." Everett's brow furrowed. He felt like he was on to something. "It's almost as if you're his to use."

He noted his companion's cheeks turning deep red, a silver eye twitching. Words had a peculiar effect on Caelyn, Everett had found. Experimenting with them was fun. _Power, hunger, cold_ and _strength _usually drew a shiver, while _warmth _and _safety _got sighs.

Ryan White had whispered _If y'catch him right y'can make him purr and kinda stare off intah space. Very cute. Much harder t'do since he's back from t'dead, though. _

Everett Lightbringer theorized it had something to do with Caelyn's domesticated, half-animal side. He was clearly intelligent but definitely inhuman. Everett liked that.

"Lord, are you tryin' to kill him?" Ryan White ruffled Everett's hair.

Everett blinked. "I didn't realize I'd mortally _wound _him."

"No, no, it's alright." Caelyn's Noxian accent came back when he was nervous. "The young man's curiosity burns just as bright as the fire of it generally does in those young."

"Wha' he say?" someone asked softly. The other boys hushed him.

Caelyn folded the final shirts and sighed. "There are aspects of such a relationship that logic and observability cannot comprehend. Questioning is insufficient."

Everett cocked his head. "That's nonsense. It's part of the physical world, isn't it?"

Caelyn's eyelashes fluttered. Everett noted it mentally. "Subjectivity comes in h - ha - hand —"

"I bet something' else comes in hand, too," one of the boys whispered. The laughter made Everett clap his hands over his ears. Caelyn almost dropped the iron. One scarred hand covered his mouth.

Everett caught scent of Demetrius before he saw him. Cologne — deeper than the King's, Everett thought. Musk and sandalwood.

Cologne fascinated Everett, too. Fashion did. And sociology. And biology, and history, and archaeology — the Doves had taken him into the armory during their lunch break. Caelyn had a key and had showed him his infamous angel-slaying sword. Everett was equally fascinated by the twisted black hilt, the blood-stained blade, and the distant wanderer's look that entered Caelyn's snowy eyes.

_I cannot wait for my telepathy to develop, _Everett thought. _The world will be fun. _

In the present, Demetrius frowned and gathered shivery Caelyn to his chest, who hid. "Are you all teasing him again?"

Everett joined the chorus of "No, my lord!"

The Tactician looked around. "I believe I heard a Mourning-Thrush in place of a Willow-Dove."

"Certain it wasn't a Pine-Chicken, my lord?" Ryan White's imitation of the Noxian accent was flawless.

"Isn't that _Sit'ra_'s son?" Demetrius' eyes darted to the shimmering Dove pin. A look of complete mystification crossed his well-bred face. Everett giggled, then covered his mouth with his hand as Caelyn had. "What — King Ryland said nothing about that. Especially not during the succession talks. The Generals would've rioted. How old is he?"

"I'm about two, methinks, Sir." The Willow-Doves all exchanged glances. "Depends on how one perceives space-time."

The Tactician's black eyebrows rose. Then his brow furrowed. "That godsdamned space-horse. It's been forever since I was reminded."

"You're supposed to call him 'my lord.'" Wren nudged him. "Caelyn calls him 'Sir.'"

"Ev's certainly not shy, is he?" Linnaeus murmured. There was a general round of whispers.

"My apologies. The Willow-Doves have very specific social customs. I'm a neophyte." Everett strained forward. He thought he could hear Caelyn purring softly into Dem's chest. _Is it closer to housecat? I know some apes purr, and he is humanoid. _He didn't notice his forehead was on Demetrius' knee until he stumbled. The Tactician helped him right himself — brief, light, careful touch — then shook his head.

"Hmmm. I understand His Majesty's decree a bit better now, I think." Demetrius gathered his shirts, paused, nodded. "Good day to you all. _Ta - shakti tante._"

"Our Masters turn the Wheel," the Willow-Doves chorused.

Everett cocked his head. _Lord. This is all very peculiar._

And so Demetrius and Caelyn departed.

* * *

><p>He looked over his shoulder again.<p>

She paused, heard him mutter something beneath his breath. _…be of some use to him, I suppose. _

She followed him up to the North Wing of the fifth floor. Opposite the Destroyer's quarters.

A grand antechamber spread before them, made of blue-gray stone that looked like the ocean and paneled by stained glass that looked like yellow butterfly wings.

Tall Guy II's voice through the solid stone double doors was almost inaudible. "Aven, your godsdamned daughter is twice as daft as you are, if not more." A pause. Morning Glory cocked her head and felt her ears wiggle. "Right behind me. Following me." Another pause. "I don't know. She's been at it for two hours now."

"Oh, truly?" The doors crept open. Then He was standing there, resplendent in light and beauty. But he looked a bit more tired than usual, not bright enough to make Glory to whirl and run. The Lightbringer often hurt to behold with mere beast sight.

Her white tail fluttered, hooves clicking on the stone. She nosed hearer to Him, glanced up at his wide, green eyes.

The Tall Guy II she followed had muscles to crush boulders. He tried to rearrange his stony face in a smile. _It's very close and a great try, _she wanted to say, but if the Good Man Sir Demetrius didn't understand her, others had no chance.

Her velvety muzzle brushed the Lightbringer's hand. Felt good. _Relief. _

His voice was low and admiring. "Isn't she gorgeous? Look at the way the light plays across her fur. Thought I picked out the perfect name. Could shorten it to just Glory."

"Picking a name's about all you've done. Meanwhile she's raised on wild grass and the Generals have long conversations about shooting her. '_The King says all game on his property is fair hunting, and she's often a deer. Give it a few more months for her gray spots to vanish. She'll be magnificent venison.'_" Tall Guy II sounded cranky.

The Lightbringer gently stroked Skylan's face with his other hand. "First time I see you in a week, and here y'are all fit to be tied. Have y'talked with Soraka 'bout — are those tears?" Aven snatched his hand away.

"You're an ass. No." Skylan's jaw clenched. The corners of his eyes twinkled suspiciously.

Morning Glory turned girl and leaned on Tall Guy II's chest to hug him. As far as Guides (so she thought of them), Skylan had been very sweet. The others usually tried to leave her, or to catch her or feed her. He was very patient and respectful.

_Don't be sad. _

Skylan looked away from her pale face. "What language is that? None I recognize."

"Hmmm. Northern Freljordian, but with a Pilt accent." Aven clicked his tongue. "I know Ez's eaten up by his boy soundin' like a General, but —"

"Could be worse. Freljord and Piltover." Skylan snorted. It crackled. "Gods above. We've got no chance to understand her."

Aven glanced up at him, then traced figures on the air. His finger left a glowing powdery silver contrail.

Morning Glory listened to Skylan's heavy, slow heartbeat and squinted. _Can — can I read? _She traced a figure and left one of her own, in gold. _Aye. _

_That's the important thing, _Aven wrote. The Freljordian runes crowded near one another. _Be sweet to Skylan. I shall be sweet to him and the King both —_

"Holy hell, Aven, are you writing her a book?"

"Hush, brute." But his tone was affectionate.

— _after the Wheel is saved. Understand? _His green eyes were bright, shining.

_Aye. _

_I love thee, Morning Glory._ His smile was like a slant of sunlight.

She frowned at her name. The symbols — the lines — if she blinked, it began to look a bit like a Wheel. _I love thee, _she wrote.

Then she turned fawn, leapt into Skylan's arms, and snatched at the silver letters with her teeth.

"Oh, she's yours alright," Skylan muttered. His thumb rolled over her taut shoulder muscles.

"Feed her almonds. Please."

"Why the hell —"

"Good for her fur. Just trust me." Aven looked at him. "Y'do trust me, right?"

"Aye. Somehow. For some reason." Skylan grimaced. Morning Glory licked his face.

* * *

><p>"We're being followed," Everett heard Caelyn mutter from the corner of his mouth. Caelyn held Dem's shirts closer to his chest.<p>

They were passing through the sunny Grand Hall, where four or five groups of Ionian tourists were paying their respects to an enormous black statue of Ryland. It was based off the original, but incorporated King Ryland II's destroyed hand. The scarlet Ionian cloaks draped off the tourists' backs were embroidered with golden dragons.

Demetrius glanced behind him. "That truly is Sit'ra's son, though, and Sit'ra's never been terribly fond of you. Never sure why."

"I can think of a few reasons, Sir." Caelyn sighed.

Demetrius' gaze softened. "Regardless, I'm not sure we should be seen —" He noted a couple dark-suited Generals murmuring to one another, eying the angelic child behind them and making suggestive gestures, and sharply cleared his throat.

"What?" General Degardo smiled lazily. Seeing his sweet Erin the Riv with that Piltover meathead earlier poisoned his mood. The Tactician and his faggot were always easy to tease. "I can't help that every slave that wanders past is off limits now."

"As it should be." Demetrius' tone was curt.

"Long live the King," someone muttered. "Some Golden Age."

The Ionian tourists were exchanging glances. Everett beamed. _I didn't realize everyone would become so riled over a piece of silver. _

Caelyn huffed. "I thought King Ryland's great Knights would find greater meaning in their lives than molesting the innocent, greater purpose than in —"

"Did your master give you permission to speak?" Degardo cocked his head. "Looks like he's trying to replace you, anyway."

Caelyn blinked, then looked back down to Everett. _…Oh. He is much cuter._

_His eyes turn a bit red when he's upset, _Everett noted.

_Oh, dear, _Demetrius thought.

"Is that the plan for you two? Raise a slave child? I'm sure he'll be very obedient." Degardo dusted his palms on his pants.

With a sigh, Demetrius hefted Everett into his arms. _No escaping ignorance. _

Everett struggled. "Pardon me, but —"

"Hushabye for the moment, little one. I should find the King."

"Demetrius looks so fatherly," Degardo mused. "Almost as fatherly as he did at his wedding." The other Generals laughed. Caelyn turned pink.

Demetrius shook his head. The godsdamned Ionian tourists were blocking the staircase. He didn't know whether it was intentional or no.

"Hmph. I thought those questions were valid." Everett nodded. Demetrius was a lot comfier than Ezreal, who always held Everett like he was terrified of dropping him, like Everett was some thermonuclear material or precious chunk of meteorite. "It appears this man believes so as well."

Demetrius cocked his head. The Destroyer's son was odd, but bright. Actually, it reminded him a bit of Caelyn before — well. "What questions?"

"About your relationship with the Foxboy maintaining primary characteristics —"

Caelyn coughed loudly.

"Your damn slave's coughing on your laundry," General Thomasson pointed out. "Should probably get a new model." Loud laughter.

The shifting Ionian tourists were all staring them down with brown, blue, green eyes. Their language sounded like out-of-tune harp strings.

Everett continued, " — reminiscent of —"

Caelyn coughed harder. The Generals imitated the Willow-Dove accent.

"Our damn leada's fixin' t'have a heart attack."

"Quick. T'only prescription is a General's huge, fat —"

The Ionians' whispers grew.

_Oh, dear, _Demetrius thought again.

" — father and son," Everett finished.

"_Silence._"

Everett hid his face in Demetrius' chest and heard screams. The air was very hot, and his cheeks began to itch and sting. The space behind his eyelids was a warm amber.

"One more moment of you lecherous impotent fools disrespecting me and I'll send you colliding with the hell-torn spirits of Demacia lost," Caelyn hissed.

Everett cracked on eye open. Flames were raining in vast white sheets from the vaulted ceiling, and —

_Ah. The fire around King Ryland's statue looks fitting. Perhaps the color contrast. _He thought idly of constructing a machine to bathe it in flame all the time while the Ionians fled in terror.

"Mock the suffering I've endured —"

General Degardo's voice was shrill. "He simply said you were _coughing _on his _shirts_, what the hell do you mean suffering?"

Caelyn's voice boomed above the crackling flames. "Three years at the hands of aggressors alone in the depthless black and I return to imbeciles who can't even use their swords."

_You know, _thought Everett. _I bet those extra sets of teeth are part of a dominance display. And his eyes are black as jet now, his pupils red. Sort of like Ryland's statue covered in fire. Very intimidating. _

"Enough." Demetrius clapped a hand on Caelyn's shoulder. Caelyn gasped. The flames winked out. The Grand Hall was empty and very, very silent. It smelled of faint smoke. "We'll be off now. Thank you." He readjusted Everett to take Caelyn's hand, but Caelyn flinched away. "Come on, little one."

Caelyn's shuddery breaths filled the plain staircase. He was squeezing the laundry in scarred fingers. "Please don't touch me, Sir, I don't deserve it."

"You do."

"P - please don't."

"If you insist." Demetrius tweaked Everett's nose. "Sorry if you were frighted, my boy."

"I wasn't afraid," Everett said cheerfully.

"Why would he be? His father's Luxanna's Destroyer." Caelyn buried his flushed face in Demetrius' clean shirt. "Why would the lovely Luxanna ever let her son near a monster?"

"You're talking of his father, right?" Demetrius' voice was just as cheerful as Everett's.

Then they were in some glorious part of the castle Everett had never seen. The tall, arched windows were latticed with gold, and crystal chandeliers twinkled along the gray stone floors. There were two large, comfortable black sofas on either side of a table with swans for legs.

A man and a girl were sitting close together on the right one. Ev recognized the complex figures in the man's large book, but not the supermodels on the girl's glossy magazine.

A new voice. "Holy — what in the blue hell are you doing with Ez's son?"

That was Jayce, Everett realized. How had Ezreal described him?

_Talented but troubled. From the same city as me. I'm definitely not Noxian. _Ezreal sounded sure.

_ What happened? Why are we here?_

_ Oh. Our — our city didn't want us anymore. I used — I used to be Piltover's hero._

_ I bet it's hard to live in Noxus because Caelyn and Ryland are its heroes. Not you and Jayce. _

_ I love you and Lux enough that it doesn't bother me._

_ I believe you're lying, father. _Everett had wondered about the strange look on Ezreal's face. He also wondered why Ezreal wouldn't let him call him "Ezreal." Everett had refused to call him _daddy _or _dad. Father _was a truce.

In the present, Demetrius put him on the floor. He stood up straight with a wince. "Jayce. Must you sound so horribly appalled? Please spare me. I've had enough accusations for one day."

"Not because of that. Come on." Jayce shook his head. "I meant what the dick's going to happen to this fuckin' palace if Ez sees you anywhere near him. Never mind carrying him."

"Probably the same thing that'll happen when he be hearin' y'werecat accent." Demetrius arched an eyebrow.

Erinae didn't lift her eyes from her magazine. "Hey, Tall Guy. Shut it. Defender Man said you and Caelyn use our accents all the time."

Everett looked to Jayce's blonde companion. _Golden eyes. And she's quite attractive by conventional standards. And unconventional ones. I'm not sure how I feel about that pink dress with her hair color, but it's not my place to comment on what a woman wears. _

"Maybe we do. Maybe we don't. Who's askin'?" Demetrius snorted. "That was awful. But at least it got Caelyn to smile. Poor thing." He tried to tug the Foxboy down onto the sofa with him.

He remained rigid. "Master, your shirts."

"Yes, I know. Come sit here."

"But your shirts."

"Caelyn."

"Goddamn. Another bad day?" Jayce looked pained.

"You know. Only almost setting some Ionians on fire. Per usual." Demetrius chuckled.

"Your shirts need folded," Caelyn mumbled.

"Dearheart, they are folded."

"What the heck, fucknut Foxboy? Get your brain back." Erinae flipped a page of her magazine. She still hadn't looked up.

Caelyn shivered. "I'm very, very s - sorry for coughing on them, Sir."

"It's alright, of course."

"It's alright," Everett echoed. "I'm sure you two have already exchanged bodily fluids from living together."

Demetrius' eyebrows rose. Caelyn muttered something dark about laundry beneath his breath.

"I see he got his dad's tact. Great." Jayce grimaced.

Everett leaned forward. "It's true, isn't it? You all are very strange. I believe I've ascertained why Ezreal said you were troubled, too."

"Why who was troubled?" Jayce leaned forward along with him. "I know he didn't mean me."

"No, no. He did. You're Jayce, right?"

"Ezreal said _I _was troubled."

"Aye. I'd stake my life on it."

"Holy criminy on two fuck biscuits," Erinae declared from behind her magazine. Caelyn muttered something about cost-effective detergent and the sweet deaths of millions of Demacians. Demetrius finally pulled him onto his lap and stroked beneath his chin. He shuddered.

"I've got no idea what that means, I'll confess. I've had enough trouble understanding the Willow-Doves' accents." Everett smiled.

"_Ezreal said I was troubled._" Jayce looked to Demetrius with his mouth open. The Tactician shrugged. "Listen, kid. You see the world out there?"

"I'm a bit short to see out that window, but I get the concept."

"Yeah. Your dad almost _blew that up_."

Everett frowned. "What? He never told me that."

"I bet the hell he didn't." Jayce leaned towards him. "Your dad almost destroyed existence. You know why you're here?"

"Jayce. Please." Demetrius rubbed his temples. "He's very young."

"Old enough to be wearing that pin, apparently."

"Everyone's so up in arms about this pin. It's very interesting." Everett realized he was tired.

Jayce glared at him. "Your dad killed his best friend, then stopped time."

"That sounds impossible." Everett yawned.

"Yeah. Well. He did it." Jayce scowled. "I wasn't there, but I believe Caelyn."

Everett stretched. "Well, Ezreal did say you were troubled, and of late I doubt the veracity of many of Caelyn's statements if they don't relate to General Falin. Given his altered state, probably induced by post-traumatic stress disorder. Perhaps it's your strange thoughts instead of your little companion there that makes Ezreal think you're strange. I imagine you two pursue a similarly parental relationship." He yawned again. "Sorry. I ramble when I'm sleepy."

Jayce was about to snap a retort, then thought better of it. He had another memory of Ez, too: _I thought y'wanted me t'be smart! _The Pilt and Dove sounded oddly similar. _Reflections?_ "It's — It's fine. I'm sorry."

"Not a problem, my man." Everett nodded.

"Holy fuckstick on macaroni," Erinae muttered, then slapped her magazine down. Then looked at Everett. She gasped. "Ohmigoshhhhhhh."

"Madam —" Everett backed away, but not fast enough.

Erinae caught him in her arms, pinching his cheeks. "He's sooooooooo cute."

"He's about as cute as his dad," Jayce muttered.

"So really cute?" Erin giggled.

"Come on, Erin." Jayce groaned.

"Reflections, remember?" Demetrius shifted and let Caelyn purr into his neck. "Caelyn's got a crush on Luxanna. So Erinae —"

"I didn't even think — how far does it go, Demetrius? Honestly? Does it apply to their children? Are they part of the Wheel?" Jayce suddenly sounded worried.

Demetrius was silent for a long moment. "Perhaps I'll tell you after our little guest has worn himself out."

"When are we getting one, Defender Man?" Erinae rocked Everett in her arms until he dozed off.

"One what?"

"A kid."

Demetrius snickered, then tried to hide it. Caelyn twitched.

_Yeah, I'd rather deal with setting random people on fire. _Jayce rubbed his temples. "Uhhhhh. When you're not fourteen?"

"Oh yeah." Erinae giggled. "He's still cute. And I usually hate kids. Unless I get to eat them."

Jayce didn't have a comeback.

Both Everett and Caelyn had dozed off, the Foxboy still protectively clutching the shirts. Jayce wasn't terribly surprised when Erinae kissed the top of Everett's golden head, yawned and leaned over onto the Defender. Then she snored lightly.

Jayce blew a sigh out. "I really hope Ez doesn't find him here with us."

Demetrius tsked. "I wasn't about to leave him with Degardo."

"Godsdamn. That man is a goddamned slime ball."

"So are there one or many?" Demetrius looked amused.

"One or many what?"

"Gods. You can't use 'godsdamn' and 'goddamn,' both."

Jayce sighed again. "I don't know how many gods there are. Too many. That's all I fuckin' know."

Demetrius nodded and glanced down at his beloved's sleepy, freckled face. "You know — I bet if we mirror Caelyn's freckles, they're Erinae's. Or, well, vice versa."

Jayce looked at Caelyn's face. Then at Erinae's. "Well, you know, I'd almost gotten through a day without being either terrified of dying or extremely creeped out. Stupid fucking Wheel."

Demetrius Falin was the only person Jayce could ever say those last words to and feel confident he wouldn't freak. Ryland and Ezreal could say _fuck the Wheel_ to one another, but Jayce would always remember Ezreal roaring _The Wheel is mine! _into the wintry black.

Even when he was with Soraka in counseling, she took the words _I fucked Erinae and enjoyed it _better than _Fuck this stupid fucking Wheel. _

Demetrius chuckled. "Ever heard of Ascension?"

"That a new brand of cologne you're coming out with?" Jayce's eyes were dark with humor. After the near-kidnapping, then hearing that a similar incident had happened to Caelyn three days before…

_Their freckles. Whenever I can almost pretend it isn't real, something stupid like their freckles happens. _

Demetrius laughed. "No. His Majesty and I believe that may be what's happening next."

"You're going to have to elaborate a little."

Demetrius paused, and gazed out the window, idly stroking Caelyn's back. After a moment he said, "You know Sit'ra and Luxanna go to couples' counseling?"

"Already? It's been like a year."

"Well, it was on my recommendation. I'm one of those preventative people, and Luxanna enjoys it a lot."

"Uh-huh." Jayce frowned a little. He didn't know where this was going.

"I thought I'd take Caelyn. I've heard all say great things about the star-lass who'd inexplicably come down from the great white castle in the sky."

"Soraka."

"Aye, that's the one. So I attempted to take him, and she said…" Demetrius closed his eyes. "She said, 'I cannot support one who has slain hundreds of thousands, nor can I support the horribly evident abuse he finds necessary to survive. Ryland fought to find the light inside him, struggled to, but it is clear that Caelyn is happy to live his life unrepentant. Many of the healers I used to work alongside had suffered the loss of loved ones because of Caelyn's very hands, particularly Sona and her lover Garamond d'Taglier. I cannot imagine the devastation he left behind in his wake.

As for yourself, you've purposely created an abusive environment to cater to insecurities Caelyn could work through in other, healthier ways. You've done this knowingly, as a grown man, and also helped engineer those same slaughters as the Noxian Tactician. And thus I can treat neither him nor you with a clean conscience, and so won't.'"

_Ouch. _"That's — wow. That's —"

"Fucked. To put it simply. Not only does she treat you and Erinae — no offense, Sir Jayce —"

"No, no, I —" Jayce blushed. He always tried to tell himself the Demetrius-Caelyn reflection thing didn't apply to his and Erin's relationship, but it did. Not completely similar, not completely opposite. Something in between.

"But to treat the Destroyer and not Caelyn, when I know she's got some healing powers to — to help him. Not to take pity on him. And she even treats Luxanna. I know the princess never came near to Caelyn's records but she's slain quite a few Noxian men in her own right." The Tactician looked away. "Caelyn helped save the Wheel."

"I know, but Ezreal never — he didn't kill hundreds of thousands. He just came close to destroying billions. I'm not defending Soraka." _That's weird to say. _

"Fair enough. No one will treat him at all." Demetrius' eyes grew distant. "Anyway. Ascension."

_So that was unrelated. I guess he just had to tell someone. _"Right."

"Ryland doesn't believe he's immortal. Nor does he believe Skylan, Aven and Ezreal are, either. He thinks Caelyn would've had a lifespan of 5,000 years, given his demonic heritage, but he'll die when I do, which will be in about — I don't know — forty years. Hopefully."

"Yeah?"

"However, with Life and Death gone — that sounds so strange. With them banished, he believes Ezreal and Aven will die, but also pass onto another great stage. Unlike what you and I will do, for instance."

"But — the Wheel." _Don't we get some place special? After all that bullshit? _He didn't realize he was squeezing Erin's arm hard until she smacked him in her sleep and mumbled _fuckboy _beneath her breath.

"Sir Jayce. I'm fully confident the Wheel's got somewhere in mind for us. And I'm almost positive it's somewhere with the four of us together. For better or worse." The Tactician smiled warmly. "But when Aven and Ezreal pass on to the next stage, he thinks they'll be put into much the same roles their mother and father were."

"As supreme deities."

"Aye. As regulators, watching over the Wheel. Creation. What's strange is that we don't know what will happen with no one trying to destroy it. Assuming Ezreal doesn't, of course."

"Ezreal will Ascend." Jayce rubbed his temples and glanced at Everett's sleepy face. _He has that look. That god look. _Obnoxious he may be, but the gold of his hair was slightly too bright, his eyes a little too blue. "Then Everett and Glory —"

"Will take the positions Ezreal and Aven have now. It's all a cycle." Demetrius traced a circle in the air.

"I really hope he likes his sister."

"That'll make things peaceful, won't it? I know that's all Caelyn longs for. For things to be at peace."

Jayce looked down at Erinae again. "Huh. See, that's why I wonder about the reflection thing as it applies to our relationships."

There was a ghost of a smile on the Tactician's face. "Abuse is a scary thought. I understand not wanting to be associated."

"Yeah." Jayce swallowed. "I don't know what Erin longs for like that. Like, peace? Or a milkshake?"

"Think about it. Think about it very hard." Demetrius dug a small notebook from his pants' pocket and flipped through it. Jayce knew that meant he was going to work on communications coordinating.

He leaned his head back and thought. _Peace…_

A month after Ta - Kitair. _All I want is for you to be my big ass Defending Dude to save me from idiots. _

A week ago, over milkshakes. _All I want is for us to live happily ever after, okay? Stupid, right? _

_ All I want is for people to leave me and you alone. _After the second time they made love the night of the near kidnap.

After the trip to Piltover where Jayce decided he wasn't a Techie anymore ._All I want is for you to be happy. Preferably with me. _

_ Gracious, Sir, I believe all I long for and desire — sorry, I can't stop laughing. Foxboy's stupid fuckin' accent just — wow. It's so stupid. _

"She wants peace too, doesn't she?" Jayce looked to the Tactician. "Why am I even surprised?"

Demetrius smiled.


End file.
